Red Sky at Night
by nightelf37
Summary: Recovered from MickeyDismantle. A continuation of Shadow Boxers and diverts from Ring of Fired onwards. With the creation of the Mecha-Engineer, Gray launches an attack against Mann Co.'s headquarters with the aim of taking out respawn and killing off the RED and BLU mercs once and for all.
1. Chapter 1

nightelf37: Thanks to a certain application that is no longer available on Google Play, I am able to 'rescue' this fanfic from oblivion. MickeyDismantle, please notify me if you want this removed, because your account seems to have vanished, so I can't ask for your permission. And because the application doesn't track chapter names, there will be no chapter names.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle. Now, may I present...

**Red Sky At Night**

"Now is time to run."

The trio of undercover Mann Co. assassins had never heard such truer words. There they stood amongst metal giants and their tyrannical overlord; flies on the wall as they listened in on Gray Mann's newest scheme.

Miss Pauling instinctively shrunk, appearing even smaller against the bulk of the Heavy and Soldier beside her. Only seconds ago, she stood there in her cardboard robot helmet, amazed that such an idiotic costume was fooling a horde of killer robots. Now that they were all staring at her, she felt...well...as ridiculous as she looked.

_I'm so fired_, Miss Pauling thought.

All jokes aside, they were incredibly outnumbered. No, outnumbered wasn't even the correct word. They were **swamped**. Gray Mann's entire robot army now had them cornered and awaited instructions.

Miss Pauling continued to silently berate herself. _You're an idiot. I can't believe you went along with this stupid plan. __**Soldier's**__ plan!_

It wasn't her most well-thought-out scheme. But a week ago, she never expected this.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

_One __w__eek __p__rior..._

_"Nngh! This is impossible!" Miss Pauling growled. "In the Badlands alone there are 306 Mann Co. plants, office building, warehouses, and outlet malls! Don't get me wrong. It's amazing you've been able to save as much as you have. The museum, the quicklime factory..." _

_The young administrative assistant stood gathered around a large workshop table with the RED team mercenaries. Strewn in front of them were various maps highlighting previous conflict zones and decoy stations where they had clashed with Gray Mann's robot horde. It seemed like it was only yesterday that they were fighting BLU and capping points. Never in their wildest dreams did they imagine themselves fighting killer androids instead. Some of them even questioned why they even bothered staying with Mann Co. but the money those bots dropped coupled with an undercover sense of pride kept them going. When it was all said and done, Teufort was their home and the mercs had come to view each other as a sort of dysfunctional family as the years carried them forward._

_Miss Pauling sighed. "But you can't be everywhere at once. Guys, I'm starting to think we can't win this." She let out a growl of frustration, pushing her cat-eye glasses back up her nose. "I'd kill to know where they're going to attack next!"_

_"The robots are going to attack the Mann Co. facility at 20 Gravel Pit Way at exactly thirteen hundred hours tomorrow," Soldier piped in, slamming his fist down on the table. "We will never see it coming."_

_"Uh huh," Miss Pauling responded dismissively, cradling her chin as her eyes continued scanning the maps on the table. "C'mon, think, guys! Where are they going to attack n-" Suddenly, Soldier's statement dawned on her and she abruptly looked up at him. "Wait, what? Soldier, how do you know all that?"_

_A devious grin spread across the Soldier's face and he beamed. "The robots told me!" He gave an impish chuckle. "When I infiltrated their secret robot meeting last night!"_

_By now, the rest of the team __was__ rolling their eyes. They'd spent enough time around Soldier to be all too familiar with his delusional antics. Scout, however, remained oblivious to the topic at hand as he gazed drunkenly at Miss Pauling, blissfully infatuated. Another typical RED team meeting..._

_Miss Pauling narrowed her eyes as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing. "You infiltrated a...?"_

_It was Spy who interrupted her train of thought as he cleared his throat. "Miss Pauling__,__i__f I may?" Miss Pauling knew all too well that the Soldier's IQ level had long been in question, but Spy wondered just how much. "Soldier, did you infiltrate a top secret robot meeting last night?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"Indeed. Soldier, are we on the moon right now?"_

_"Yes!" _

_There was a moment of silence as the group exchanged looks._

_"Gentlemen," said the Spy, "I've lost several liters of blood today. I will likely die defending a hat factory tomorrow. I'm going home."_

_He fixed his tie, heading for the door, followed by the Scout._

_"You said it, pal!" Scout said as he jogged backwards __through the door. "G'night, Miss Pauling!"_

_Once they were gone, the room remained silent for several tense seconds before Soldier took it upon himself to defend his information._

_"But I did infiltrate the robots! Come on, guys! Why would I lie? We're all Americans here!"_

_"Well not all of us, obviously," said Miss Pauling, turning to look at the Heavy. "Medic's German and Heavy's from Russ-ow! What?" She was being gently elbowed by Heavy, who was silently pleading with her to be silent while Medic cleared his throat conspicuously. And then it dawned on her. "Oh!"_

_She had forgotten. Soldier was very...delicate...about his patriotism. Heavy quickly diffused the situation. _

_"Ha ha! Germany! Russia! Is big joke! Big American joke on Soldier!" he said cheerfully, putting on a great, big, nervous smile. _

_Soldier patted Heavy on the shoulder and chuckled. "Ha! You got me!"_

_"Ohh, America! It is the place I am from! ….All the time."_

_"You and me both, fellow patriot! Not like that Gray Mann! He was raised by eagles! In Europe! What an idiot!"_

_Luckily, the Demoman, who was also European, ignored this statement and busied himself with emptying another bottle of __s__crumpy into his maw. Sniper, Medic, and Engineer had decided they had heard enough. With tired sighs, they began retreating from the room._

_"Heh. Eagles," quipped Sniper. "Right, mate."_

_"Enough of this nonsense. Gute nacht, everyone," said the Medic, following behind the Engineer with his dove, Archimedes, perched upon his shoulder._

_Pyro followed suit, albeit with a soft mumble that Miss Pauling thought was perhaps a 'good night'. She couldn't be sure. It didn't matter, though. She was now fixated on the Soldier. It was no secret that he was prone to say things that were downright stupid, but Miss Pauling couldn't ignore the fact that he somehow knew details about Gray Mann that he couldn't have possibly learned from anyone but the source._

_"Ok. The Administrator knows about the eagles. I know about the eagles. Soldier, how do you know about the eagles?"_

_Soldier gave an impatient sigh. "I told you! I infiltrated-"_

_"Show me how."_

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

_It couldn't have been a prouder moment for him. Finally! A soldier amongst them who wished to know of his vast, superior intel! He beamed and bolted for the nearby lockers, followed by a still somewhat skeptical Miss Pauling. Soldier prepared to open his locker, but turned and looked at Miss Pauling slyly, as if he were getting ready to revel the greatest secret never known to mankind._

_"Miss Pauling, are you braced? Because you will need to brace yourself for what I am about to show you."_

_"I'm braced. Let's see it, Soldier."_

_"Are you sitting down? Because you should not be in a comfortable bowel-emptying position for what I am about to show you."_

Seriously?_ Miss Pauling glared at Soldier, incredulously. Already, what little faith she had in him was dwindling._

_"I'm standing. You're looking right at me."_

_"Ok, but are you pregnant? You should not b-"_

_"Soldier! Show me!" Miss Pauling growled in frustration._

_It must have been good enough for him, for Soldier reached into his locker and with a little bit of flair, pulled out a cardboard box which he promptly placed over his head. It had a square hole cut to reveal his mouth and his eyes were now covered by two plastic red cups, attached to the box by the worst duct tape job Miss Pauling had ever seen. To top it off, a wire coat hanger was protruding from the top of the box as an antenna. _

_"Beep boop! I am a robot!" Soldier said in a monotone voice, shuffling his arms stiffly back and forth._

_Miss Pauling could hardly believe it. Massive hordes of killer robots were thwarted...by this? For a few seconds, her brain wouldn't allow her to do anything but stare in a deadpanned stupor at the joke standing before her. She wasn't sure if Soldier had just wasted three minutes of her life she could never get back, or if she was staring at the most ingeniously devised plan she'd ever seen. _

A box.

_Soldier continued his robot impressions before he noticed Miss Pauling glaring at him silently. "Beep boo—Miss Pauling?" He tilted the box up so that he could see her and became overwhelmed with genuine concern. "Miss Pauling? Don't be scared! I am not actually a rob-"_

_"Leave it on," Miss Pauling interrupted him. "In fact, tape together another one. I'm coming with you."_

_So that was that. If this is what it took to gather intel from the enemy, then so be it. And if an idiot like Soldier could pull it off, then anyone could._

_Heavy, who had been idly listening nearby as he put his belongings into his locker, decided that enough was enough. He was no idiot. To have Soldier go and risk his life to gather robot intelligence was one thing, but it was another to drag Miss Pauling into it. He slammed his locker door shut and approached them, hovering over them like a giant. _

_"Fine. This idea you both have? Is terrible idea. But if Miss Pauling is going, Heavy goes too."_

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

And that's how it began. Every night, the Heavy, Miss Pauling, and the Soldier donned cardboard box helmets and dryer vent hose tubing and would sneak into Gray Mann's Gravel Co. compound. The first day, Miss Pauling felt horribly exposed and stupid as she stood amongst the enemy; amazed that the robots fell for such a primitive ruse. Her heart was nearly in her throat the entire meeting, but she set aside her fear and gathered enough information to keep their facilities safe. As the days went by, she became more comfortable with the idea of wearing a child's Halloween costume and standing in a room full of killer androids. But that was only because their numbers successfully hid the three mercenaries in the back of the room. Gray Mann just never took the time to fully scan his horde to notice any abnormalities.

That is, until now.

"For my latest creation, I've replaced all that rote worshiping circuitry with raw computational power," Gray Mann announced to his robot legion. "May I present the smartest addition to the Gray Mann army..." He stepped over to a tall cloaked figure on the platform beside him and with a devilish grin, whipped the cover off. "The MECHA-ENGINEER! You may hail now."

"ALL HAIL THE MAKER!" the robots chorused.

Standing menacingly tall, the latest robot creation immediately scanned the room as his master spoke. Already, it began analyzing its surroundings – void of any expression. Its yellow construction helmet and gloves were stark against its glistening silver and blue core.

Miss Pauling marveled at the machine from afar. She wondered if she was the only one weirded out that Gray's entire robot army resembled their living counterparts so much. Her contemplation came to an abrupt halt, however, when the giant robot Engineer spoke.

"Scanning...humans!" it raised its arm and pointed a finger in the mercs' direction.

Instantly, Miss Pauling shrank into herself as the entire horde turned to face the three of them.

"Ohhh boy, I'd hate to be those humans right now," Soldier said from beneath his cardboard box, slipping a hand underneath to pick at his nose.

"Heavy?" Miss Pauling said, meekly.

Already, the massive merc was turning to head for the exit. "Now is time to run."

She didn't have to be told twice. Instantly, she turned to her left to follow Heavy but they immediately stopped as an army of Rapid-Fire Demomen blocked their path; raising their grenade launchers and taking aim. Soldier still hadn't comprehended that their jig was up, so he was caught off guard when Miss Pauling and Heavy changed direction and pushed him to the right. The three stumbled for a moment before skidding to a halt; their path on the other side now blocked by Heavyweight Champs. They were surrounded and cornered against the wall in a matter of seconds.

"Hold your fire," Gray ordered.

Slowly, the robots lowered their arms but never kept their eyes off of the three mercs. Up on the platform at the front of the room, Gray Mann smiled, patting his Mecha-Engineer on the arm proudly before hopping down onto the floor. The robots parted and created a path as he approached the intruders, rubbing his hands gleefully.

"Oh no, here comes that European hippie," Soldier whispered to Miss Pauling. "Hold still. I'll handle this." He cleared his throat as Gray approached, suddenly going into a stiff robotic pose and shuffling his arms back and forth. "Beep! Boop! I. am. a. robot! Beep Bee-!"

He was cut short, however, when Gray smacked the cardboard helmet from his head. "Enough!" Gray barked. Immediately, the three mercs stiffened and went silent, allowing Gray to analyze them. "Well, isn't this ingenious? So, **this** is how you managed to sabotage all of my raids this week."

Gray stood before Miss Pauling and whipped the cardboard box from her head and for the first time ever, she was able to come face to face with her enemy. He was a small man; not much taller than her, and as confident as his behavior was, he looked quite physically frail. His face was old and withered; his legs short and thin. He gave Miss Pauling a grin and she saw his crooked, yellowed teeth. Gray was old. And not just in a normal, aging sense. He was past old; he was beyond his years. He had the same withered look as his brothers, who had defied nature and prolonged their miserable lives via artificial life-extender machines. Gray even had the same smell.

But Gray carried with him no massive contraption hooked to a wheelchair. There were no wires or pumps or electrodes attached to his liver-spotted skin. In fact, the only thing Miss Pauling could see and assume was keeping Gray alive was the centipede-like machine attached to his bony spine. But what was it? It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. And she had seen a lot.

"I must admit," Gray said, breaking Miss Pauling's train of thought, "I'm a little ashamed of myself for not noticing. You had been standing back here like little mice this whole time, haven't you?"

By this time, Heavy had also removed his cardboard mask and his body was tense; ready to pull Miss Pauling out of harm's way. Though he stood towering over Gray, he knew that one wrong move would have the robots firing upon them in an instant.

Gray spared no precautions, however. With a snap of his fingers, the Heavy and Soldier were immediately immobilized by a pair of Steel Gauntlets, leaving Miss Pauling standing exposed between them.

"Hey! Get your made-in-China hands off me!" Soldier ordered as he was manhandled off to the side.

Heavy also struggled, but his arms were promptly pulled behind his back. Miss Pauling could only silently watch as the two mercs were incapacitated. She suddenly felt horribly foolish standing there with dryer vent hoses on her arms.

"You must be the Administrator's secretary I've heard so much about," Gray said, eying Miss Pauling from head to toe. "I heard you were a calculated woman. Smart. Lethal. And yet here you stand in a child's robot costume with a man who won a nose picking contest."

Miss Pauling's cheeks began to burn.

"So now, what do I do with you three? I can't very well kill you, can I? You'll just respawn. Clever little fail-safe your Engineers have come up with, by the way." Gray tapped his chin pensively for a moment before turning his back on the trio and walking back towards the stage. He looked up at his Mecha-Engineer and seemed to say something unheard before he looked over his shoulder. "Take the three of them down to the boiler room."

Whatever passiveness the three mercs had flew out the window. They found themselves being dragged away as a Major League Scout came up from behind Miss Pauling and clamped its hands around her arms. Behind her, she could hear the Heavy and Soldier exchanging spats with their metallic captors, but the robots never faltered.

"YOU SCUM! I WILL NOT BE A PRISONER OF WAR!" Soldier shouted.

They continued their scuffle; Heavy doing his best to throw the Steel Gauntlet off of him, until they heard an unmistakable **BONK!**

The robot carrying the Soldier away collapsed in a daze. And then...

**BONK!**

A baseball. Right dab smack on the noggin of the bot dragging Heavy away, effectively causing it to release him and fall in a heap; a spring jutting out from its temple.

By this time, Gray and his entire army were frozen in bewilderment. Everything was happening so fast. And before anyone could react, the RED Scout jumped down from the rafters of the warehouse, landing on the shoulders of the robot holding Miss Pauling hostage and promptly snapping its head off with a deft twist. The robot made a choking, fizzled scream before falling over in a shower of sparks. RED's Medic and Demoman quickly followed suit, landing on their feet before a razzled Soldier and Heavy. Within seconds, Miss Pauling's recon team grew by three.

"What are you guys doing here?!" Miss Pauling exclaimed.

"Savin' your butts!" Scout exclaimed, readying his bat over his shoulder and facing the bewildered horde of robots before them.

And then, the three newcomers were off with a feral war cry and reckless abandon, leaving the unarmed Heavy, Miss Pauling, and Soldier staring dumbfounded against the wall in which they had been cornered. That is until...

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Thirty seconds later...

"Is bad rescue mission," Heavy mumbled as he was being led away by another Steel Gauntlet.

Behind him, he heard his fellow teammates curse and struggle against their robot captors. Their battle for freedom had ended before they even fired a single shot. Three mercs vs. ninety angry robots. Scout managed to last an impressive nine seconds before a Heavyweight Champ knocked him over the head and rendered him useless. Medic and Demoman didn't fare much better, quickly becoming overcome before Gray even had time to clap his hands in delight. It was all very comical to him and yet also incredibly humiliating. _**This** was Mann Co.'s elite? **This** is what kept my army at bay for so long?_

Miss Pauling shared his sentiments.

The mercs were silent with shame as they were led down a long, sterile-looking corridor. Metal doors lined the walls every ten feet or so and at the end of the hall, a staircase that descended into a soft, orange glow; like a fire was burning beyond. They hadn't seen or heard Gray since their capture; only seeing robots and hearing the monotonous drone of their stomping.

Miss Pauling was the first to reach the staircase and saw that the door at the bottom of the landing was metal, like the others, but held a small, round viewport on top. The orange glow beamed from the glass and when the Major League Scout before her opened the door, a blast of hot air hit her in the face and made her flinch.

Or maybe it was just that the rest of the facility was so damn frigid.

Behind her, she could hear Demoman complain in a slew of profanities. Without any hesitation, she was led down the stairs and unceremoniously shoved into the room. One by one, the other mercs followed suit in a chorus of objections, except the Scout who was thrown on the floor; still knocked out.

The mercenaries silently took in their surroundings. They were in some sort of large mechanical room; the roaring of machines behind them almost deafening. And in the center of the room was a huge open furnace, roaring with fire like a giant's Dutch oven. The source of the heat and glow emanating from the room became all too obvious. It was uncomfortably hot. A smell of burnt rubber made their eyes water and their throats clench.

The robots crowding the doorway parted, allowing Gray's sinewy figure to descend the stairs and stand before the mercs. He wrung his hands and smiled with satisfaction.

"Please. Get comfortable. Enjoy your stay," he said condescendingly.

Miss Pauling glared. "You know you can't keep us in here forever. The Administrator will send the others."

"I'm counting on it. It'll be easier to just kill you all in one fell swoop than to drag this whole nonsense on like some sick treasure hunt."

"YOU LIMEY RED-COAT!" Soldier roared, charging forward against the restraint of the Demoman holding him back. "YOU CAN TORTURE US ALL YOU WANT! WE'LL NEVER GIVE UP THE INTEL OR THE CONSTITUTION!"

Gray raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, that's good. If this were 1775, I'm sure I'd be very worried."

"It's a year you will rue, pal!"

Miss Pauling rubbed the bridge of her nose in humiliation.

Gray clasped his hands together and took a deep breath. "My, it's hot down here. Anyway, until I figure out what to do with you, enjoy your stay. I'm going to go blow up your headquarters. Goodbye."

And without any amount of flair, Gray turned his back on the mercs and departed the room; the robots closing and locking the door on their way out.

The mercs were now alone in the orange, hot glow of the boiler room. The only sound they heard for the next several seconds was the roar of the furnace in the center of the room. That is, until Miss Pauling spun on her heels and unleashed a fury they'd never witnessed before.

"What the hell were you guys doing!?" she shouted, her eyes wide with incredulous anger behind her glasses.

Medic had immediately tried to busy himself with waking Scout up while Miss Pauling placed herself before a wide-eyed Demoman.

"Idiots!" she continued. "All of you! Now we're locked in here, Gray is going to attack the headquarters, and we have NO way of letting the others know to stage a defensive assault! Six of us, and only three with weapons, against a robot army?!"

"I couldn't let them harm me best mate," Demoman tried to reason, gesturing to Soldier.

Miss Pauling glared at him wryly and then turned her head towards Medic. "And what's your excuse? I always considered you an intelligent man, Medic. You really thought you could take on a horde of bots with a bonesaw?"

Medic could only look at her apologetically. "Herr Heavy is my comarade. Vhat kind of Medic vould I be if I left you all to die in battle?"

So if Demo showed up to save Soldier and Medic showed up to save Heavy...then that would mean...

Miss Pauling's eyes fell upon the Scout, who was still mumbling in a semi-coma on the floor. She rolled her eyes.

_My hero._

"How did you find us?" Heavy asked the Medic and Demo.

"The lad told us about yeh," Demoman explained, gesturing towards Scout. "He'd been trailin' yeh all week."

"Why?" Miss Pauling asked, more sharply than she had anticipated.

"Prolly wanted ta prove himself to yeh. Who knows? He said somethin' about Gray buildin' a new robot. The only reason Medic and I showed up t'day was 'cus Scoot thought yeh might be in a wee bit a' danger. And he was righ'. For once."

The anger inside Miss Pauling died out only a little bit. Despite their whole operation being a complete and utter disaster, Scout appeared to have the best intentions. It was just too bad he was an impulsive moron.

"Ach. Sorry," Medic sighed and shrugged off his coat. He was already starting to sweat from the heat.

At a loss, Miss Pauling glanced around the room, trying to come up with a plan. But the boiler room was dark and void of any doors or windows save for the one they came in through. Large, black pipes and valves snaked across the ceiling, and the large furnace towered over them in the center of the room, spewing out heat. The door was their only way out.

Frustrated, Miss Pauling gave a sigh of defeat and her shoulders slumped. "Medic," she said. "Come help me figure out a way to open this door. We have to get out of here before Gray starts the attack."

"Jawohl," he replied immediately, abandoning Scout.

And so their great escape began.

* * *

><p><em>A. , yeah I deleted my old story and started a new one. So sue me. The old one was such rubbish. Campy, full of plot holes, and going absolutely nowhere in 3 chapters. I have a much greater grasp on the plot for this one, so I'm hoping it turns out better than the last. It's still kinda the same concept, just laid out a bit better. And that's thanks to the Shadowboxer comic. I guess you can say this is my version of a continuation.<em>

* * *

><p>nightelf37: I have all twelve chapters (as he didn't seem to create more before the story disappeared), but I'm posting only the first for the time being. I don't plan on making a continuation of this, even if I had permission. I'd probably end up mixing it up with my <span>Equestria Fortress 2<span> story. This fic will stay like this until any of the following conditions are met: (a) a month or more has passed, after which I'll continue, (b) I get a reply from MickeyDismantle, after which I'll do what he requests me to do, (c) this site orders me to take this down, after which I will do so.

See ya on Third!


	2. Chapter 2

nightelf37: Okay. A month has passed, no action has been taken against this fic, MickeyDismantle has yet to respond. I think it'll be safe for me to continue. Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The sun was setting over Mannworks, though the mercenaries would never see it. Gray clouds shrouded the horizon, much like it always did along this section of the mountain. Rolling alongside it was the ever-present veil of fog that had become Mannwork's trademark. The air was damp and the green of the evergreens was stark against the grey of the concrete buildings among them. And in one of them, the RED team gathered. But there was a problem.

"She ain't one to be late," Sniper said, folding his arms and leaning his back against a wall. "Ever. I don't like it."

This had become like clockwork for them. Every evening, the mercs would gather inside the respawn room to go over their game plan. And as of the day of Gray's invasion, Miss Pauling had been joining them. A week ago, Soldier had revealed he had been listening in on Gray's robot meetings. No one believed him, of course, until it was Miss Pauling and Heavy who came back the next night with cardboard boxes. They didn't like the idea of her being in the heart of the lion's den; they were quite fond of her in their own ways. At least Heavy went along to keep her safe. Soldier, on the other hand...

Even so, the meetings they held every evening were just as much as a "check in" as they were tactical. Seeing Miss Pauling walk through that sliding door made them feel safe and confident because she was their unofficial leader. And if something ever happened to her, they knew they could never be as strong of a front. So now that she was thirty minutes late...

"Now don't be so quick to assume the worst," said Engineer, trying to ease the worry that now saturated the room.

"Where is Medic? Or Demo?" Spy inquired.

Pyro said something beneath his mask; coming out as only a muffled question.

"Yes, Scout, too," Spy answered, though he honestly couldn't have cared less about his disappearance.

Again, Pyro asked something, though his voice was lowered and meek.

"She's been sneakin' into them meetin's for a week now," Engie reassured him. "Never been caught before and she ain't a dummy. It'll take more than a few robots."

"Yeah, but we ain't talkin' about a 'few' robots. She's in Gray's headquarters. You think Scout, Demo, and Medic went this time, too?"

"It might explain why she's late. Maybe they held her up with somethin'. You know Scout. He's always pushin' his luck with her."

But the longer they waited, the more their overwhelming sense of dread consumed them. The robots didn't attack their end of Teufort that night, which was all as well considering they were lacking in numbers with no healer. They heard no distant echo of gunfire or bombs from their BLU counterparts, either, and they wondered if perhaps they knew more than RED about the recent goings-on.

So they waited. And waited. An hour passed before Sniper gave up his post from atop the respawn building where he had been keeping vigil for any sign of their team's return. He was rewarded with nothing but the last slivers of light as the sun set completely over the gloomy horizon. Specks of rain began falling on the brim of his hat and with a dejected sigh, he climbed down the side of the building and went back into the respawn room.

"Anything?" Spy inquired.

"Nah. The Administrator might know somethin'. In the meantime, we should do a bit of recon."

Spy took out his disguise kit from his lapel and flipped it open, unsheathing a cigarette and shoving it between his lips.

"No."

"Why not? I think it's pretty bleedin' obvious that Miss Paulin' and the others are in some hot water and—"

"I'll go. You stay here. If they are, indeed, in trouble, then there's no sense in getting us all involved. I can get in and out quickly."

Pyro suggested something with a shrug.

"Yeh, alright," Sniper replied. "I'll stay here, then, in case they come back. Engie and Pyro'll go check with BLU. Spy, just do a bit of snoopin'. Don't engage. The last thing we need is for this whole ordeal to be blown outta the water and for you to get caught because'a it."

Spy lit his cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling slowly. "Your concern is endearing."

He was being sarcastic, of course.

Without a further exchange of words, the four mercs exited the respawn room via the large, garage door and were greeted with a chill in the air. The rain was beginning to turn to snow. Engineer and Pyro immediately began their long walk to Decoy while Spy fiddled with his invisibility watch and disappeared from sight with a small wisp of smoke. Sniper found himself standing alone on the platform joining the two respawn rooms; his brow furrowed with worry and pensiveness. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his intuition was getting the better of him; gnawing on him to the point where he couldn't worry if he was jumping the gun or not. If his team was in trouble, he wouldn't allow himself the luxury of shame. Not because he actually cared about them, but it was simply in his best interest to keep them alive and more importantly, keep them employed.

With a tired sigh, Sniper climbed up onto the roof of the respawn building to keep an eye out once again. He shrugged off the cold and got as comfortable as he could manage, bracing himself for a long night of uncertainty.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

"Huh? What happened?" Scout slurred as he came to in a flash and abruptly sat up.

"Easy there, lad," the Demoman said quietly.

Scout's vision danced as he turned his head towards the sound of Demoman's voice but was unable to focus amidst the dark and his wavering concussion. He flinched, bringing the heels of his hands up to his eyes and pressing on them with a groan. His head was throbbing at the site of the wound along his temple, caked with dried blood.

The first thing he noticed, other than the pain and dizziness, was that he was sitting on a concrete floor in a loud room. And it was hot. Swearing under his breath, Scout whipped off his baseball cap and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked and glanced around. He saw no robots and assumed the best. "Did we make it out? Where's Miss Pauling?"

Demoman sighed, whipping off his skullcap and throwing it to the ground tiredly. The sweat lining his hairline glistened in the firelight.

"We're trapped in boiler room," Heavy answered, leaning against a nearby pipe in the dark. Scout squinted to see his massive outline. "The others are by door, trying to figure out way to open it."

"How the hell did we end up in a boiler room?" Scout exclaimed, looking at the Demoman again.

Demo contemplated this for a moment. "Well. There were a bunch'a screamin'. And then cursin'. And then you got backhanded by a robot. And now we're here."

Scout winced and his ears burned red. "…Did Miss Pauling see it?"

"Ohhh, aye."

"Shit."

Gingerly, Scout pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled for a second but then regained his composure and brushed dust off of his pants. Trying not to look sheepish, he rounded a large pipe that had been obscuring the door from his view and saw the Medic, Soldier, and the love of his life all gathered around. The roar of the furnace still deafened the conversation occurring, but Scout caught on as he walked closer.

"Can't we blow it up?" Miss Pauling asked, turning her head to look at Soldier's lapel. His grenades were all missing. During their capture, the robots had stripped the mercs of any weaponry.

"Negatory," Soldier answered. "My weapons have been confiscated!" It was during this time that he noticed Scout approaching and stood up straight. "Well, look who's decided to wake up and join the effort. Sleep well, Private Kitten?"

Scout glared. "Shut up. What's goin' on?"

"Ve're locked in zhis room," Medic answered. "Fraulein Pauling and I vere just trying to figure a way out. How's your head?"

Frowning, Scout reached up and absentmindedly brushed his fingers along the scabbing wound along his temple. "It's fine. Here, move outta the way."

He waved the trio of them away. Reluctantly, they exchanged doubtful glances and obeyed, parting as Scout rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. It was dark in the boiler room, but Scout examined the door jam the best he could. He threw his baseball cap down on the ground and did his best to ignore the sweat beading along his forehead in the stifling heat.

"Gimme two'a your hairpins," Scout finally said, holding his hand out blindly to Miss Pauling.

She hesitated, looking at Soldier and Medic before rolling her eyes and digging her finger and thumb into her chignon bun. Delicately, she removed two bobby pins and dropped them into Scout's awaiting palm. Strands of her hair now began falling loose, sticking to her sweat-lined face.

Scout never looked up, though. He was concentrating hard upon the door jam and without another word, he stretched the two bobby pins apart.

"What are you doing?" Miss Pauling asked.

"Ya don't think I know how ta pick a lock or two?"

Miss Pauling crossed her arms and looked at him incredulously but Scout ignored her and got to work. He stuck his tongue out the side of his lips as he concentrated on maneuvering the tiny black hair pins in the tiny space between the door frame and jam. Truth be told, he hadn't picked a lock since his days at home in Boston, but he was confident he hadn't totally lost the knack. If anything, the tiny grated vent at the bottom of the door brought in relief in the form of cooler air from the corridor outside, so at least he could cool off a bit while he worked.

Medic remained close by, watching Scout work upon the lock as if it were open heart surgery but Soldier and Miss Pauling decided to join Demoman and Heavy in sulking on the floor for the time being. They found him sitting behind the furnace; the rear of the room slightly cooler.

It was the one and only time Miss Pauling wished she were a man. She couldn't shed clothes in the stifling heat like the others. No, she was stuck in her polyester blend purple shirtdress for this entire ordeal.

Soldier seemed to be the first one to notice Miss Pauling's discomfort and she tried to sit on the floor as lady-like as she could.

"Don't worry, Captain," he said, taking off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. "According to the Third Geneva Convention, Part Three, our captor cannot implicate the use of any cruel or unusual forms of torture. If he were a smart man, he'd provide us with proper accommodations and provisions until we are liberated by allied forces."

Miss Pauling blinked at him. For someone so delusional and stupid, Soldier did have a plethora of useless information stored in that brain of his.

"That's...great, Soldier. Good to know," she said dismissively.

Soldier gave a great big sigh. "Unfortunately, Gray is not a smart man, so you know what must be done, men."

"What?" Heavy asked.

Soldier reached into a small breast pocket on his jacket, taking out a handful of colorful tablets.

"We kill ourselves with these cyanide pills before they can waterboard information out of us! Here, there's one for each of us."

He happily distributed them to Demo, Heavy, and Miss Pauling, who took them in their palms and stared at them speechlessly. Miss Pauling's eyes darted from the green, lima bean-shaped object in her hand and back up to Soldier, who was beaming proudly.

"Soldier," she said slowly. "This is a jelly bean."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Sniper couldn't deny the chill anymore. As he sat upon the rooftop of the respawn room, his rear had all but gone numb against the frozen shingles. He tried to ration off his coffee in the hopes that small, constant sips would keep him warm enough to endure the vigil, but all it did was leave him a half cup of cold java.

He adjusted the shoulder strap of his rifle and cupped his hands by his mouth; the warmth of his breath doing little to bring the feeling back in his fingertips. It was a typical winter night in the desert. Temperatures often plummeted to well below freezing in the mountains, and fast. An evening chill had quickly turned into a deep freeze in only a matter of hours. Sniper had sat through many hours of harsh weather before, but there was only so much his body could take before it just went numb.

His eyes scanned the horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of any returning team member in the dark, but he was only rewarded with an empty desert landscape. It would have been beautiful if he hadn't been so damn worried.

Finally, Sniper decided to give in to the elements and head inside. It wouldn't be the best vantage point, but at least he wouldn't freeze to death. Carefully, he stood up and brushed the frost from his pants. With one final glance out into the desert, he turned his back and began to head towards the ladder.

But that's when something caught his eye.

Immediately, Sniper ducked down and squinted through the darkness. Something or someone was approaching the base from the east. He quickly flattened himself against the roof again and whipped his rifle from his shoulder. It took him only a second to position the gun against him and peer through the scope.

It was too dark to see clearly, but whatever it was that was walking towards the base wasn't human. It walked upright, but it had a square of light glowing amidst its torso.

"Bloody robots," Sniper growled.

Getting the head of the robot directly in the crosshairs of his scope, he took a deep breath and then, without any hesitation, fired. Immediately, the trespasser crumbled to the ground.

"Too easy."

Sniper smiled as he peeled his eye away from his scope and shouldered his rifle again. It was as if he were back in the bush again, hunting game and living by his wits. Excitedly, he descended the ladder on the side of the building and, forgetting the cold, began jogging towards his kill. Perhaps it had dropped more money.

Sniper crossed the barren, desert landscape. But as he drew nearer, the more the body looked less and less like a robot. When he was finally upon it, his smile faded. It wasn't a robot at all. It was a person. And the glowing cube that was in the middle of his torso was a television. A television with a very annoyed black and white video feed.

"Are you an imbecile?" the Administrator asked. "Can't I ever send a messenger to you idiots without you killing him? I can't afford to replace these televisions anymore. It's coming out of your paycheck."

"Ma'am?!" Sniper exclaimed in confusion. "What in the bleedin' hell are you doin' sending messengers out in the middle of the night? I thought he was a robot!"

The poor, dead messenger was a young man, no older than Scout. A clean bullet hole was visible in the middle of his forehead; his eyes wide in shock as he lay spread-eagled on the desert floor.

The Administrator took a long drag of her cigarette and crossed her legs. "Fair enough. I'm still docking your pay, however. And make sure you bury him before the feds come snooping around." She paused. "Now, if you're done wasting my time and money, would you shut up and put Miss Pauling on?"

Sniper went pale and gulped. "You mean...? Wait, you're not here because Engie or Spy sent you?"

"Why would I be here because of them? Are they the reason my assistant hasn't shown up for work this evening?"

"No...not them." He looked out at the horizon for a moment. "You mean you don't know nothin' yet?"

Narrowing her eyes, the Administrator sensed the nervousness in Sniper's body language. "I'd know something if I didn't know nothing."

"Ah, cripe," Sniper sighed. "She's been infiltrating Gray's gravel company headquarters with the Heavy and the Soldier for a week now."

"What are you talking about? I never ordered her to do that, let alone the Heavy and Soldier." Sucking on her cigarette, the Administrator let the nicotine calm her nerves. "I guess I can't blame her for taking the initiative. So, I take it she's there now?"

"I think that's safe to say. It's just..."

"It's just what?"

"Well, a few others tagged along this time, too. Demo...Medic...Scout."

"Terrific," the Admin said sarcastically. "And?"

"And...well...they haven't come back."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Spy was accustomed to being patient. His job depended on it, after all. But for some reason, as he cautiously scaled the dusty hill that sat before Gray's Gravel Company headquarters like a rocky mote, he felt an unexplainable uneasiness in his gut. He was thankful for the darkness of night, even though the neon lights of the towering building pierced it like a knife. Deciding not to take any chances, Spy cloaked himself well in advance of his approach. His silhouette vanished in a soft swish and a puff of smoke and the uneasiness in him quelled only slightly.

Entering the grounds was easy enough. It was a company, after all; not a prison. But Spy was so used to having to deceive his surroundings that old habits die hard. He still expected a Pyro to come blast him around every corner. The Cloak and Dagger made it tedious, as well. Every hundred feet or so he had to stop and recharge, stop and recharge, stop and recharge...

Spy approached the grounds and ran up the exposed driveway that connected to a large hangar-like structure. He could only assume it's where Gray stored the massive tank that delivered his army of bots to their attack destinations; a tank the mercs had grown all too accustomed to seeing for months now.

Gray's Gravel Company towered over him menacingly. The steel gleamed and was stark against the bland desert backdrop. The windows appeared to be lit up, but Spy saw no silhouettes. And it was eerily quiet.

Reaching the main entrance, Spy pressed his back against the wall and took stock of his surroundings. Even though he was cloaked, he still was wary, but a quick scan still revealed no robot guards. He knew he had to keep his mission brief. Get in, find out if Miss Pauling and his teammates were inside, free them if he could, and get out as soon as possible.

Spy tried his luck and attempted to open the main doors. They were locked, of course; it being so late at night, so he decided to double back and attempt to enter through the hangar. He stuck close to the wall, tip-toeing through the darkness and patted his lapel just to make sure his knife and Ambassador were still safely tucked inside his jacket should he need them. Spy rounded the corner of the main building and began approaching the hangar. He began to grow suspicious of the lack of any robot activity whatsoever but as he reached the front of the building and rounded the corner, he gasped and quickly doubled back.

Spy pressed himself against the wall and frowned. Carefully, he leaned over and poked his head around the corner again. A robotic Pyro clanked by, stomping towards a large, open door with bright light pouring out onto the grounds. Seeing an opportunity, Spy followed behind the robot and as the door began to close, he carefully shoved the tip of his shoe in the way as a doorstopper. Once he was confident he hadn't been noticed, he peeked through the tiny crack he had created and immediately squinted. The hangar was inundated with floodlight. And illuminated in that light was the silver gleam of hundreds of robots lined up in rows, standing at attention; their eyes glowing blue and their exhaust pipes gently spewing fumes. Rows of Heavyweight Champs, Major League Scouts, robot Pyros, Rapid-fire Demomen, Huntsmen; every robot the mercs had ever faced seemed to be standing like foot soldiers before their master.

Spy was grateful their backs were turned to him. Keeping his wits about him, he surveyed the area with his eyes the best he could through his miniscule vantage point and searched for any hint of Miss Pauling's possible whereabouts. But all he could see was a seemingly endless sea of robots; the stench of exhaust wafting out through the door and almost choking him.

Then, almost out of nowhere, Gray appeared before the robots. Spy's demeanor changed in an instant. Nervousness gave way to determination and ruthlessness and he narrowed his eyes as he strained to listen to him speak.

"My creations! We stand here at the pillar of victory," Gray said, grinning from ear to ear. "Tomorrow, we will take down what's left of my brothers' pitiful legacy and finally destroy Mann Co. once and for all. Attack as planned; the Mecha-Engineer will take care of the rest." He gestured towards a robot that Spy hadn't even noticed until then. The Mecha-Engineer stood stoically off to the side of the stage, hidden by a group of Heavyweight Champs. "Once his mission has been carried out, the rest of you will destroy every single Mann Co. person, place, and thing until their ashes are smoldering at my feet! I don't want a single splinter of wood left standing in Coal Town!"

"What should we do with the prisoners?" a Minor League Scout asked.

Spy's eyes widened. Was it talking about his team? And what did they have planned for Coal Town that was so special?

"The prisoners I will handle personally when the time is right. You know what you have to do first," Gray answered, his voice laced with deviousness.

"Yes, Creator!" the robots chorused.

"Good. Stick to the plan. Now, power down for the night. You'll need all your energy. We have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

><p><em>A.N. I apologize if this chapter moved a little slowly, but I really needed to finish setting the stage. Next chapter will be the start of the action. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter.<em>

* * *

><p>nightelf37: Of course, that AN is MickeyDismantle's. I kept it in because it's his writing. See ya on Third!


	3. Chapter 3

nightelf37: Continuing on, although I did some tweaking so you can remember who's who since RED and BLU have the same members or something. Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle.

* * *

><p>"So the Administrator actually sent a messenger? Man, that's how you know you're in it deep," the BLU Scout yawned.<p>

It was well into the late hours of the night when the remaining members of RED made their way to Coal Town to consult with BLU. Engineer and Pyro were already there trying to plead their case to a group of exhausted and rather unenthused BLU mercenaries, but it wasn't until Sniper and Spy breathlessly burst through the respawn room doors that their desperation became all too real.

Never in a million years did the teams ever think they'd be working together. Rivalries still lived strong even after the death of Blutarch and Redmond, so of course RED was met with a bit of resistance and skepticism from BLU.

"And you're sure your team and Miss Pauling's with Gray?" BLU Engineer questioned. "Did you actually see 'em?"

RED Spy glared as he nursed his cigarette. "Strange coincidence that half of my team go missing the same day Gray decides to gather up all of his robots for a pre-war pep talk and specifically mentions 'prisoners'."

"Well, what are we waitin' for?" BLU Scout asked. "Let's run in there, bash some robot skulls, and get Miss Pauling back! …And the others, too, I guess."

BLU Soldier pounded his fist into his palm and puffed out his chest. "The towel boy is right, men! American lives are at stake!"

"You're about two seconds from toweling up your blood from the floor, pal," Scout growled.

BLU Sniper held up his hand to quiet them. "Alright, easy, mates. Let's keep it together." He took a deep breath and looked at the RED Engineer. "So, what should we do? The whole thing sounds like a trap."

The RED Sniper was growing impatient. He smiled with a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion, as if he couldn't believe he was wasting his precious time standing in BLU's respawn and trying to explain the obvious to them.

"Of course it's a bleedin' trap!" he exclaimed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But we got no choice. If Gray's gonna launch a massive attack on Coal Town, we're gonna need all the fire power we can get."

"We owe it to Miss Pauling anyvay," BLU Medic said; arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his shoulder into a support beam. He looked at the RED Spy. "Did Gray mention anyzhing about vhen he vould be attacking?"

Spy took a deep breath through his nose. "Only sometime today. So I suggest we be on our guard from this moment out. I will return to Gray's compound and see if I can sneak into the building to retrieve our comrades."

There was a moment of pause amongst the mercs; a mixture of apprehension and exhaustion. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, it was almost surreal. They wanted to believe it was just another looming, annoying robot battle, but with the way things were falling into place, they knew it was going to be so much more. And for the first time, they were genuinely nervous.

"And wha' aboot the Administrator?" BLU Demoman asked. "Shouldn't she be gettin' her stingy arse ou' there and savin' her assistant?"

RED Sniper rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, the video feed cut out right after I told her Miss Pauling had gone missin'."

"Perfect," BLU Scout said sarcastically. "Yo, we bettah be gettin' overtime for this."

Once again, the room fell silent from the weight of contemplation. For once, they weren't fighting for a paycheck or their jobs. But they weren't scared for their lives. No, it didn't matter just how big the robot wave would be, if worse came to worst, the mercs would always respawn in the end. And though they were severely outnumbered, their immortality on the battlefield was what made the difference. It was the amount of what seemed like unnecessary effort that Gray was putting into it that troubled them. Why go to such lengths? Why change the game plan? Why now? None of it made sense. Perhaps it was to dampen morale. Or perhaps Gray's plan was to simply start taking prisoners instead; keep the mercs alive and imprisoned, and **then** they can't respawn and fight. Perhaps Gray was using his captives to gain information about their strengths and weaknesses. It was a thought that crossed most of their minds. All they knew was that no matter how bad the battle became, they'd feel a lot happier fighting it with their entire team.

"So…what now?" BLU Heavy asked quietly from the back of the room.

"Now, I suggest you gather your munitions and rest while you can," RED Spy said. "We have a long day ahead of us."

And with that, the mercs begrudgingly disbanded and the respawn room emptied out. That is, all except for one. Archimedes, the RED Medic's pet dove, had been watching from the rafters. He fluffed his feathers and cooed softly before taking flight out the respawn room door; his destination unknown but his determination unmistakable.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Meanwhile, RED Engineer headed for his humble workshop just outside of Sawmill. When he unlocked the doors of his garage, he heaved a heavy sigh and pulled the light fixture cord hanging from the ceiling. They zapped and flickered for a second before bursting forth with light.

Engineer stared at the various blueprints and spare parts littering his space, and they suddenly felt strange and foreign to him as if they no longer had a place in his world. For the next few minutes, he sat on a stool and contemplated heavily in silence. He thought of all the things that had changed and transpired over the last few months with the coming of Gray. It felt oddly normal to suddenly be collaborating with a team whom he had been assigned to kill up until recently. BLU Engineer and he had been working for Mann Co. long before the other mercenaries came along, and the rivalry was never a factor in taking the job. No, the Engineers were geniuses and their inventions would have been seen as...unconventional anywhere else. It was a chance for them to truly build great things with an endless supply of Australium and a sturdy paycheck to boot.

That's also why they fought the robots. Gray was also mechanically gifted, and the thought that their inventions and creations could be destroyed by none other than machines drove them mad. There was no more BLU vs. RED for the Engineers. It was now machine vs. machine.

Except now his fellow mercs were going missing. And there was no telling what Gray was up to now. All he knew was that it was different and he didn't like it. For the first time, he not only felt real danger for his job but for his life as well. Even if Gray did torture his team for whatever information he could possibly want, anyone could tell a lie. It's what's written on paper that is set in stone.

Engineer felt a headache creeping into his temples. With a gentle shake of his head, he came to a rough conclusion. He'd have to destroy everything; blueprints, charts, prototypes, everything. His entire legacy was about to be wiped from the face of the planet, all to save his team and Mann Co. Maybe BLU would hold up. Maybe Gray would never discover their secrets. Hell, maybe they'd even win and chase Gray off for good. But it was a risk Engineer couldn't take, for if Gray ever learned the function of the respawn system, they could kiss their sorry asses goodbye.

Reluctantly, Engineer sighed in frustration and reached towards his worktable, opening up a large drawer. Inside that drawer was a metal box, locked like Fort Knox with a series of buckles and a large padlock. He reached into a tiny pocket of his utility belt and unsheathed a key, getting to work on the box and soon unleashing its contents.

SMACK!

Dust plumed out around the folders' edges that smacked against the dirty worktable. Engineer stared emotionlessly at the seemingly harmless stack of paper that now lay before him. They were his blueprints; everything he had ever worked on since he began working for Mann Co.. Teleporters, weapons, respawn...

He patted the box that contained them as if it were a faithful pet sitting by his side. The fireproof and indestructible cube had been a trusty fortress. God himself wouldn't have been able to pry it open. It had done its job well. And now, it was about to be retired.

He felt as if he were about to put a dog down. The stack of folders containing his legacy were almost begging him to let them live, or that's how Engineer felt as he stared at them. But he knew the longer he contemplated his decision, the less likely he would be able to go through with it.

_I can design new things. Better things,_ he thought to himself in an attempt to harbor some strength.

And then, without another moment's hesitation, Engineer opened another drawer in his workshop table and rummaged through some odds and ends until he found a lighter. He held it in his giant hands like it was a vial of poison. And then, frowning deeply, he flicked open the top and set it ablaze. Shaking hands moved towards the folders, until...

_Click._

"You best put that lighter down, friend," a voice came from behind him.

Startled, Engineer dropped the lighter and it extinguished itself instantly. He spun around and stood abruptly, knocking his stool over. In a flash, he had unsheathed his pistol and pointed it towards the source of the voice.

There, standing in the open doorway of the workshop, stood the BLU Engineer. RED's heartbeat slowly began to level off.

"I know what you're thinkin'," BLU Engineer said, walking into the garage and closing the door behind him. "It don't take a Harvard degree to see what's goin' on out there. As soon as Gray came and unleashed that first horde...I knew. Somethin' big was gonna happen. The man's a genius. Heck, he could be smarter than us. Look what he's built!"

"Bunch'a irritatin', diesel spewin' jallopies."

BLU chuckled slightly. His counterpart sure had a way with words.

"For now. But this ain't Blutarch or Redmond we're dealin' with. Let's face it, our former bosses were morons. No, this Gray plans to do us in, and I see you have the same sneakin' suspicion as I do as to how he's gonna do it."

BLU nodded at the stack of folders still sitting on the workshop table behind RED.

"Yeah? That's why I need to destroy these blueprints; so Gray doesn't get his grubby hands on 'em," RED said.

"That ain't the answer."

RED folded his arms across his chest, using his body language and silence as an invitation for BLU to continue his explanation. Luckily, BLU took the cue and smiled.

"I need your help," was all he said.

"With what?"

BLU smiled. "Somethin' big. And you're gonna like it."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Scout wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep. All he knew was that he awoke with a jolt; his cheek pressed against the cinder block wall. The drunkenness he felt made him realize he had passed out rather than dozed off. The stifling heat of the boiler room was really taking its toll on the trapped mercs. Scout would have killed for a glass of water.

Hell, he'd killed for less before.

He realized that he still hadn't picked the lock of the main door and was nowhere near getting closer to that task. The bobby pin in his bandaged palm was now mangled and weak from constantly being bent and jammed into a lock that gave no intention of budging. Dejectedly, Scout looked over his shoulder towards the area of the boiler room where the other mercs were supposedly sitting. He couldn't see them in the dark, even with the ever-present fire roaring in the furnace. Scout wondered if they had fallen asleep like he had.

He didn't want to admit defeat, but the lock wasn't pickable. Not only that, but he felt utterly exhausted. His head swam with dizziness and thirst; his body so overheated that he couldn't even sweat anymore. He had to come up with a different plan to get them all out of there.

Well, at least if they died, they'd go to respawn.

Sighing, Scout picked himself up off the floor and threw his t-shirt over his shoulder. He wavered on his feet for a moment and slapped his cap back on his head, despite the heat it retained. Even the cool metal of his dog tags against his chest brought no relief.

Scout decided to join the others. Maybe he just needed to clear his head a bit. But just as he started to head towards the maze of pipes in the back of the room where the other mercs had gathered, he heard something behind him. At first, it was drowned out in the roar of the furnace but then it became louder. And louder.

Scout turned and faced the door. He focused on the small porthole window at the top for several seconds but saw nothing. Shaking his head as if he were clearing the cobwebs out, he turned away again and hopped down the two steps towards the floor. But then he heard it again. An unmistakable _tick tick tick!_

Scout spun around as if he were trying to catch a ghost in action. But it wasn't a ghost. At first, he could only stare in puzzlement at the window as a small, white dove bombarded it with his beak. The tiny bird fluttered in front of the porthole, knocking the glass with his feet to create as much noise as he could. Once Scout was convinced he wasn't seeing things, his face lightened up.

"No way! Medic!"

Scout immediately forgot about the heat and stumbled towards the back of the boiler room at a half jog.

"Guys!"

He found his teammates scattered on the floor, either passed out or in a daze. Sweat drenched their faces and darkened the fabric of their clothes in the crevices along their chests.

"Medic!" Scout continued to shout excitedly. "Wake up! There's a bird at the door! Diabetes or whaever!"

Medic slowly peeled one eye open and squinted at Scout in annoyance. The heat coupled with his astounding headache was enough to make even the sanest man snap.

"It's 'Archimedes', you dummkopf, not 'Diabetes'," Medic snapped.

"Whatever, man. Listen!"

Medic removed his glasses and squinted as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The other mercs learned to simply ignore the Scout over time but the Medic sometimes still gave him the benefit of the doubt. He knew it'd get him killed one day. Today? It was the opposite. Medic was two seconds away from throttling that skinny little annoyance if it weren't for the damned heat.

"You're hallucinating," Medic cringed.

"No I ain't! C'mon! Get up! Why would I joke about this?"

Medic glared. Did he want the short answer or the long? Finally, Medic sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. "If I go and look, vill you leave me alone?"

Scout smiled; his eyes lighting up with hope. "Promise, doc."

The young merc was already bounding off towards the door; his dog tags jingling against his chest. Reluctantly, Medic struggled to his feet and balanced himself against the wall as his vision danced in and out of focus. His mouth felt like a desert and his feet were lead. He really needed to get everybody out of that room. It should have come as no surprise that the Scout was now seeing and hearing things.

Medic was sure he had sweated his entire body weight off by the time he got to the door. Scout was already there, standing up on his toes and peeking through the porthole window.

"Look!" he insisted, turning away from the door.

The exhausted annoyance on Medic's face was beyond apparent. Making a mental note to shoot the Scout later, Medic sighed and approached the door, but when he peered out the window, nothing was there.

"You infuriating imbecile!" Medic growled, clenching his fists as he turned away from the door and glowered at Scout. "Zhere is nozhing zhere! Now stop wasting my time and energy! It's not-" _Tick tick tick tick!_ "...Archimedes?"

Immediately, Medic went from advancing towards Scout with the intention of crushing his windpipe with his bare hands to throwing himself at the door. The noise was unmistakable and then, out of nowhere, a small dove bombarded the glass. Medic pressed his face against the glass.

"Archimedes! But...how!?"

Scout folded his arms over his bare chest. "Told you, man."

Medic ignored Scout's childish snubbing and lightly tapped the glass to get Archimedes's attention. "Archimedes, can you hear me? I need you to be a good little bird and go find Daddy a key to zhis door. Can you do zhat?"

Scout wanted to laugh but he was so jacked up on adrenaline; he couldn't wrap his mind around anything but the hope of escape.

It had been several minutes since the Scout had come to steal the Medic away from the group, and his absence had not gone unnoticed. Heavy peeled his bleary eyes open and softly elbowed Miss Pauling in the ribs.

"What?" she mumbled.

"Doktor is talking," he answered.

Miss Pauling, keeping her eyes closed, raised her eyebrows and gave a deep sigh. "So?"

"Is not talking to Scout. I can tell. No insults."

It was enough to make Miss Pauling open her eyes. She craned her neck, narrowing her eyes pensively as she listened to Medic talking excitedly from across the room. The howl of the furnace drowned out most of what he was saying, but she could definitely tell he was happy about something. His voice always cracked a little bit when he was pleased with something.

Curiosity got the best of them and both Heavy and she peeled themselves off the floor to investigate. When the door came into view, she saw the Medic and the Scout with their backs to them; Medic talking frantically to something outside the porthole and Scout bouncing on his toes to peek over Medic's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Miss Pauling asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Scout spun around and beamed at her. "Yo, Miss P! Check it out! Medic's bird is here!"

Her face fell placid with disappointment. This is what the commotion was about? Medic's pet?

"Ah, Archimedes," Heavy said with a warm smile. "Very good."

"How'd he even get in here?" Miss Pauling asked.

"Who cares?" Scout said. "He's our ticket out!"

"What, is he trained to pick locks and open doors?"

"Pick locks and open doors? Nein. But he can play a bit of fetch, Fraulein!" said Medic with a grin.

She shrugged. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means he's gonna bring us the key!" Scout answered.

"Ok, mein little Liebling. Go find zhe key! Go on!"

And as if on cue, Archimedes stopped dive-bombing the porthole window and fluttered in midair for a moment before swooping off down the hallway.

"Are you sure he understood all that?" Miss Pauling asked, still somewhat skeptical. "I mean, he's a bird."

Medic smiled and gently waved her off dismissively. "Ja, ja! He fetches me zhings all zhe time! Zhis should be no problem!"

And within minutes, Archimedes returned to the porthole.

"There he is!" Scout announced.

They could all see that the dove was carrying something silver in his beak; gleaming against the dim lights from the hallway behind him.

"Ohoho, man! We're gettin' outta here!" Scout said gleefully and rubbed his hands together with anticipation.

Archimedes dutifully dropped the shiny metal object on the floor right in front of the space underneath the door. It hit the concrete with a 'ping' and induced feelings of joy and hope in the mercs. "Good, Archimedes!" Medic praised and fell to his knees to retrieve the loot. He shoved his fingers under the gap between the door and floor, blindly feeling, but his massive hands wouldn't fit.

"Here," Miss Pauling offered.

Blushing slightly, Medic scooted out of the way as Miss Pauling knelt on the floor, carefully sticking her hand through the gap until her fingers brushed something cold and metal. Scout was practically bouncing on his toes with glee. They were like a group of children who were about to open the biggest Christmas present any of them had ever seen.

"Is it key?" Heavy asked.

"I don't know," Miss Pauling said as she did her best to drag the object along the floor until it was beyond the threshold of the doorway. But when she finally brought it in and held it up, their faces all dropped.

It wasn't a key. It was a robot's diode eye, complete with dangling wires as if it had been freshly ripped from a bot's eye socket. Miss Pauling held the object in her fingers, staring at it blankly as if her mind was taking a moment to catch up.

"What the hell!?" Scout finally exclaimed, breaking the stunned silence.

Frowning, Medic stood from the floor and glared at Archimedes through the glass. The bird, of course, was oblivious to any wrong-doings and stood perched against the window frame, cocking his head curiously.

"Archimedes, no! Go find zhe key! Schnell!"

The dove bobbed and then took flight again, leaving Medic to shake his head in dismay. Sometimes he wondered about that bird.

By now, Demo and Soldier had also made their way over to the door out of sheer curiosity and boredom. If anything, Archimedes's little game of fetch was distracting them from the heat. Five minutes later, the dove returned with another object in his beak.

"Alright, now, Archimedes," Medic warned, shaking a finger at the bird in the porthole. "No more jokes. Drop zhe key under zhe door!"

The sound of metal bouncing off concrete was barely audible from underneath the door. Miss Pauling got to work immediately, slipping her hand in the space and feeling around until her fingers touched a flat, cool object. Her heart began racing. It actually felt like a key. She dragged it under the door and-

A paperclip.

Miss Pauling sighed heavily, letting her shoulders sink. "We're going to die in here."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

RED Spy was grateful for the lingering darkness of predawn as he uncloaked himself upon the hill where Gray Mann's Gravel Co. lay inauspicious and dormant. His leather shoes collected dew as he traveled lightly over the grass and the first majestic rays of the sun were just beginning to break the threshold of the horizon; the Colorado plateau only still a mere suggestion in the background.

To the naïve, the morning would have been seen as tranquil, but Spy knew better.

Sharing a moment of silent pensiveness, he and the BLU Sniper had gone outside to greet the civil twilight; nursing the intoxicating nicotine from their cigarettes in silence as their eyes scanned the desert. It was the calm before the storm.

"Watch your stinkin' hide out there," Sniper had said, breaking the silence.

And with that, the Spy departed without a word. He had no real plan. Just infiltrate Gray Mann's tower without being detected, find his stolen team members, and get out with as little flair as possible before the war peaked. Hell, even if he had to just simply walk in there and shoot them all in the head so they'd go to respawn, it was better than nothing.

Still, there was no sign of the robots as Spy approached Gray Mann's Gravel Co. and cloaked himself. He thought it strange, actually. If they were going to launch an attack on Coal Town, this would have been the route they usually took. The mercs defended that desolate desert trap so often they had become accustomed to knowing exactly where they needed to be. Part of the reason Spy took that particular route was so that he could do a bit of recon on his way to rescue his team, but there was no recon to be done. The plateau was as peaceful as ever. Perhaps they really had overreacted to this whole ordeal.

Still, knowing that his job was suddenly simpler didn't ease his mind at all. Something was gnawing at him and he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Spy entered the grounds the same way he had done the night before. His cloak remained true and his presence undetected; not that there were any bots about to see him. But just like last night, he had to stop every few seconds and recharge for worry that his silhouette would be seen by any random, marauding enemy.

Not wanting to risk going in through the front, Spy slinked along the building walls until he came to the same garage where he had first heard of Gray's plan the night before. It was locked, of course, but it didn't deter him one bit. Spy glanced around and feeling that he was safe from prying eyes, he unsheathed his Ambassador from behind his lapel and aimed it at the door jam. Firing without hesitation, the lock burst and the valley surrounding him echoed with the blast of his gun. Immediately, Spy uncloaked and ducked down out of sight the best he could. But there came no indication that anyone heard his gunfire or was coming to investigate it. He felt safe again and cloaked, sheathing his gun and carrying on.

It wasn't his most debonair or stealthy of moments, but Spy knew that time was not on his side. He had to infiltrate the building and infiltrate it fast. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or wary of the lack of resistance, but there was no time to contemplate it.

The hangar was eerily quiet compared to the drone of hundreds of robots the night before. Dimly lit with emergency lighting and void of any life, Spy's shadow and clicking footsteps were his only accompaniment. Part of him wished he had more backup, but he knew the help was needed out on the field.

Once inside the compound, getting around was surprisingly simple. Gray's Gravel Company was set up just like any normal corporation with sterile hallways and offices. Except his offices were filled with blueprints, gizmos, and robotic limbs; the hallways acrid with the stench of electricity and motor oil.

Now, the only problem was finding his teammates in the maze of never-ending corridors and unmarked rooms. But just as he rounded one corner, he was greeted with the tinny whine of a patrolling Medic bot heading in his direction. Immediately, Spy flattened himself back against the wall. He should have known better than to assume the building would have been completely abandoned. There was bound to be some lesser bots paroling about for security. Not wanting to waste time with cloaking, Spy decided to take a gamble and join their ranks. If he could move about the corridors uninhibited as just another fellow robot, then he could find his team faster. Reaching into his lapel, Spy felt around in his breast pocket for his Disguise Kit. The line of cigarettes tucked neatly into the cover was enticing but Spy was a professional. Smoking would have to wait. With a flick of a button, his current form disappeared in a wisp of smoke and instantly, he took on the appearance of a fellow robot Medic.

Spy took a deep breath and wheeled around the corner. The Medic bot before him stopped in its tracks; its body trembling rhythmically from the motors in its core. Spy did his best to mimic this. It seemed to work. The robot Medic nodded in acknowledgement before turning on its single wheel and continuing its patrol down the corridor.

A load of unimaginable weight was lifted from Spy's shoulders. He exhaled and without wasting more time, continued his journey throughout Gray's tower in search of his friends. As he traveled, however, he became aware of a distant commotion. It was faint; like someone rummaging through a box of junk. Not having any other leads to go on, Spy followed his intuition and tracked down the origin of the sound. His wheeled disguise led him to a small set of stairs descending into a dimly lit corridor. As gracefully as he could, Spy managed to tackle the meager three steps in his current robotic form.

The atmosphere of the lower level was decidedly different than the one he just came from. It was darker, colder; as if it had been off limits even to the bots themselves or under construction. The surroundings lost their corporate gleam and became more industrial. Vinyl flooring gave way to concrete, painted walls turned to steel and cinderblock. The distant hum of machines could be heard.

And the rustling.

Spy listened to the best of his ability. The rummaging was coming from a nearby room with a solitary entrance but no door, as if the person who designed the building intended for unobstructed access. Spy carefully inched forward, keeping close to the wall. He expected perhaps another set of bots guarding the room but when he slowly peered past the doorframe, he was greeted with nothing but a dark room filled with boxes and boxes full of robotic parts.

But then his heart skipped a beat. The reason the room needed no door to grant it privacy: it was guarded by a large sentry gun, similar to the ones his fellow Engineer would have constructed. Out of habit, Spy retracted his head, expecting the wall on the other side of the corridor to be sprayed with bullets. But nothing happened. There was no rhythmic beeping of the sentry's radar or the sudden whir of electronics as it spun to aim at its target. There was nothing. Cautiously, Spy peered past the doorframe again. He was definitely in the line of sight, but the sentry was dormant.

Emboldened but still wary, Spy crept into the room. Though he still wore a disguise, he couldn't be too sure that the sentry wouldn't suddenly come to life and snuff him out in a heartbeat. He slowly began to inspect the contents of the wooden crates strewn throughout the room. They were filled with various odds and ends; wiring, diodes, robotic limbs, and various scraps. Most looked beat up and so Spy assumed they were remnants of failed or destroyed robots. Harmless.

Still, the rustling he heard then made him completely cloak himself. Even as a robot, he didn't want to be caught snooping. His heart was hammering in his chest with a mixture of fear and giddiness. The rustling was from a nearby crate. Ever so carefully, Spy crept towards the source of the noise when suddenly-

A small dove popped its head out from a mountain of copper wire and cocked its head curiously.

Spy stopped in his tracks and once the immediate confusion and disbelief wore off, he felt incredibly foolish. He uncloaked without haste, revealing himself in his true form.

"Archimedes," Spy acknowledged. He instantly felt hope. If there was one thing Spy had learnt about the RED Medic is that wherever he went, his faithful pet bird was never far behind. "He's here, isn't he? And you know exactly where."

Archimedes cooed in what seemed like an answer. He ruffled his feathers and pecked at a piece of wire before picking it up in his tiny beak and taking flight. Instantly, Spy forgot about stealth or disguises. His new goal was to keep Archimedes in sight and follow him as quickly as possible to what he only hoped was the location of the missing mercs.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

"Man up, ladies!" BLU Soldier barked, stationing himself atop a stack of storage crates.

The sun was well over the horizon of Coal Town; the sky as blue as ever. The morning freshness was enough to lure even the most wary of men into a false sense of security. The dusty outcrop of abandoned saloons and what would be considered historical landmarks was, as always, the soon-to-be location of an all out war.

They were tired but antsy; the night spent only preparing for the impending invasion and with little sleep. The morning sun was quickly heating up the desert to uncomfortable proportions and the mercs were ready to simply get the battle done with. Sand stung in their eyes and dried their tongues but it was a minor inconvenience compared to the threat they faced.

"Need a dispenser here!" BLU Scout hollered, double jumping off a dusty roof and landing gracefully behind a wooden barrel.

Behind him, the BLU Soldier stood with his rocket launcher shouldered and prepared to fire; his eyes hidden behind his sloping helmet. His lips were in a perfect line of deep concentration. Scout frowned at his aloofness and looked around for his other teammates. On the other side of the wooden building, he could see the BLU Sniper readying his rifle and the RED Pyro standing nearby. He assumed his other team mates were stationed in various unseen points across the map. But there was just one thing missing.

Scout couldn't hear a sentry gun.

"Yo, I said we need a dispenser here!" he shouted again.

"We heard you the first time," BLU Spy said, uncloaking behind him.

Scout spun on his heels. "Man, I hate when you sneak up behind me like that."

"It's my job," Spy deadpanned, a cigarette bouncing on his lips.

"Where's the Engineer?" Scout asked, looking around desperately.

"I'm sure he's still preparing. Can't you fight without relying on someone to bail you out of trouble all the time?"

Scout instantly scowled, his fists clenching around his Sandman and steam practically jettisoning from his ears. But before he could retort, the BLU Demoman interrupted.

"INCOMING!"

Somewhere behind Scout, he heard the BLU Soldier barking orders. "Deploy a sentry here!"

But it was too late. The horde of Heavyweight Champs descended down the grassy hill. All at once, Coal Town erupted into a symphony of gun and rocket fire. Whatever nearby windows were still left intact rattled and shattered in the barrage of weapons and the stomping of heavy robots, showering the ground in sand, glass, and casings. And in the overture of it all, no one heard a single sentry gun.

"Shit!" Scout said under his breath, narrowly dodging a spray of bullets as Minor League Scouts swarmed upon his team like locusts.

His scattergun fired mercilessly; feet carrying him to and fro across the battlefield in an attempt to outrun and dodge his attackers. Nearby, the Medic had his medigun fixated upon the Heavy as he unleashed a deluge of bullets from his beloved Sasha. A rocket from Soldier's rocket launcher whizzed by Medic's head, causing him to sharply duck out of the way. The rocket struck home, blasting several Heavyweight Champs into a pile of rubble.

Pyro charged past them, hollering a muffled battle cry as he raised his flamethrower and set a group of oncoming Minor League Scouts into a blaze. The robots let out an electrified cry before crumbling to the ground in a pile of scorched metal.

"BOMB!" shouted Medic and the other mercs looked on in unison as a Heavyweight Champ dropped down into the green gully with the rounded red and white bomb strapped to its back.

The clanging of their metal appendages as they marched forth was almost as deafening as the firepower used to stop them in their tracks. Soon the battleground was littered in a thousand metal, smoking robotic body parts. Still, it was nothing they hadn't faced before. The incoming wave of attackers neither overwhelmed nor outgunned the mercs.

Scout smiled to himself. They were going to win.

He had to forget about the Engineer for the time being and let out a delighted whoop as he dashed forward, weaving in and out of gunfire to collect the cash that fell from the robots' exploding bodies.

"Pyro down!" Soldier announced.

Scout stole a glance over his shoulder as he ran. Sure enough, Pyro's corpse flew into a nearby boulder and became a rag-dolled corpse. He had become surrounded.

And then, the first wave was over. The mercs heaved a sigh in unison as the last robot fell. The ground was now burnt and the air saturated with the sharp stench of gunpowder. Thick smoke was still billowing away in the stale breeze.

One thing stood out, though. They hadn't heard their Announcer once throughout the entire ordeal. Usually she was there to signal the coming of the robots down the hill or their unexpected victory. But they were only rewarded with silence. Still, they didn't have time to contemplate it too much. The mercs hurried into respawn to upgrade their weapons.

This vicious cycle repeated itself five more times, with each wave bringing more difficult and larger robots. The Spy did his best to sap the Rapid Fire Demomen and other big bots to slow them down, but with men missing, they were becoming significantly overpowered. Scout's confidence began to dwindle. Fearing for the sanctity of their jobs and their lives, the mercs fought only with desperation rather than with any sort of proud vindictiveness. The last wave only made their predicament more profound. With ammo running short and the bots getting bigger, the mercs struggled to keep the bomb from reaching the hatch.

It was quite amazing how one doesn't realize how important something or someone is until they're gone.

The final wave was upon them now.

"TANK!" Soldier announced.

Immediately, the mercs descended upon the bomb-toting carrier and sent a spray of bullets into its metal hide. They vented their frustrations out on the track panels, relishing in the sight of them bursting off the tank in a shower of shrapnel. But just like always, a second tank entered the area just as they were putting the first out of its misery.

They knew they had limited time before another giant robot came stomping down the hill, and with their available firepower cut in half and ammo running low, destroying the tank and bot at the same time would be difficult.

"Giant robot!" Heavy announced, as if on cue.

The Giant Crit Soldier landed on the grass with an army of robot Medics in tote, all taking turns ÜbeCharging its metallic form. They calmly made their way to the bomb sitting innocently on the terrain just beyond the central building. The tank veered left and the bots headed right.

"Scout!" Spy shouted.

Reluctantly, Scout stopped firing upon the tank, following the Spy and leaving the others to finish it. Once the Spy saw that he had Scout on his trail, he disguised himself as an enemy robot Pyro and did his best to flank the marching metal army from the side. Luckily for the mercs, the bots may have been strong but they were as smart as a box of rocks. Immediately, the sapper was placed and the robots hunched over as electricity danced across their bodies.

"Now! Shoot the Medics!" Spy shouted, uncloaking and darting away from the army.

Scout knew the drill. He raised his scattergun and began firing continuously at the sea of robots; hoping to do as much damage as possible before the sapper wore out. A trail of shotgun shells littered the ground behind him.

And then the sapper popped off.

"Ah, crap," Scout mumbled.

In the distance, he heard an explosion and recognized it as the tank meeting its demise and he silently breathed a sigh of relief knowing his team would be there to back him up shortly. While most of the robot Medics had been turned to scrap, the Giant Crit Soldier was still very much alive and continued its journey towards the bomb hatch.

Determined, Scout poised himself behind the marching robot and fired two more rounds into its back. And then...

_Click!_

The chamber emptied. Scout looked down at his gun as if he were in shock that it would betray him at such a crucial moment. From there, he had no time to react. Before his feet could allow him to dodge, the Medics ÜberCharged the Soldier and it fired upon him. An explosion blinded him and walloped his body with fiery heat and a gut-punching shockwave. He flew back and smacked into a boulder, hitting the ground lifelessly; blood pouring from his ears and mouth before his body disappeared to respawn.

"Scout down!" Soldier announced.

The others had caught up to the giant robot, but by then it had already reached the alarm zone. A buzzer blared across the battlefield and the mercs knew they had only seconds before it reached the hatch. Salvaging whatever ammo they could, they surrounded the Giant Crit Soldier and unleashed whatever firepower they had left, taking out the last robot Medic. But the Giant Crit Soldier marched on, sending a slew of rockets in whatever direction it could. It poised itself over the hatch.

In an instant, Scout emerged from the locker room, newly respawned. He snarled and raised his Force-A-Nature with vindictive pride, firing one last shot into the robot's head. Finally, the robot exploded into a sea of metal and fell dead.

The mercs erupted into triumphant cheers and heaving sighs of relief. Scout, however, rotated his shoulders as if he were shaking off a chill. It didn't matter how many times he had been killed in battle, respawning was always unpleasant.

"Tha' was too close," BLU Demoman said as the rest of the mercs regrouped by the hatch.

"Where was Engineer?" Heavy wondered.

"He wasn't in respawn," Scout answered. "But whatever. It's not like we needed him or anythin'. What a chump."

"So, that's it then?" BLU Soldier asked, looking warily around the perimeter of the respawn area as if some lone robot assassin was ready to pop out.

The mercs exchanged glances, wondering if perhaps someone had an explanation as to why they had geared up for World War III for absolutely no reason at all. They stood silently around the bomb hatch, weapons smoking and wounds bleeding, bewildered out of their minds. Things still weren't quite adding up. The RED Spy still hadn't returned with their missing team members or Miss Pauling, and there was no denying that the situation was very real and dire. But with the severity of the stakes, why is it that both Engineers went AWOL for the battle?

"Nah, somethin' still aint right. I can feel it," RED Sniper said.

"So what now?" Heavy asked.

Suddenly, his answer was granted in the form of a ground-shaking explosion. The mercs instinctively ducked and their eyes fell upon the black, billowing smoke in the distance, rising up in great choking globs along the horizon.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Five dehydrated mercenaries and an extremely patient administrative assistant stood hovering by the boiler room door with nothing but desperation and a collection of odds and ends care of a very cheeky dove. They weren't sure how much time had passed since Archimedes graced them with his presence but all they knew was that the small robotic body parts and wires they now possessed had to somehow ignite their ingenuity.

It was Scout, surprisingly, that had come up with the best idea. The lock was already deemed impossible to pick, but the copper wire and paperclip proved to be long enough and strong enough to be slid under the door and up towards the outside lever. Perhaps the door only locked from the inside. If they could somehow hook the wire onto the lever and open the door from the other side, they could get free. It was a gamble, but their options were nil at that point.

Miss Pauling was actually somewhat impressed.

Scout lay flat on his stomach upon the cement floor, hat off by his side and his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth in concentration. He carefully slid the L-shaped meld of wiring under the door and twisted it carefully to position it upward.

"Zhat's it," Medic quietly coached. "Nice and easy."

Scout barely heard him, though. His entire attention was on guiding the wire and not screwing up his chance to be a 'savior' in front of Miss Pauling. He was pretty proud of himself for coming up with the idea of opening the door from the outside. The fact that Miss Pauling didn't object to the plan made his spirits soar.

_Chicks dig smart guys. Especially handsome smart guys like me. Ohhh yeah, score one for the Scout!_

His eyes lit up when he felt the small hook at the end of the wire touch something which he could only hope was the lever.

"I think I got it!"

Space in which to maneuver the handle was limited, but Scout did his best to gently twist the wire downward and then suddenly, there was a 'click' and the door whipped open. Immediately, the mercs were rewarded with a blast of cool air and they were at once lost in the overwhelming relief. But it wasn't the Scout who had opened the door. In fact, the wire had been ripped from his hands. Staring in disbelief from his prone position on the floor, Scout gaped upwards.

Scout immediately scrambled to his feet to join his fellow mercs; eyes wide and slack-jawed at the unexpected turn of events and their unlikely hero.

"SPY!"

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><p><em>Author's Note: So for the whole two people who read my previous story before I took it down might recognize some of the material used in this chapter as it was salvaged. I'm sorry it's taken me so long between updates. I have a sort of odd dilemma. Some authors have issues with their story moving too slowly. I'm worried about mine moving too fast. Especially with two semi-subplots happening. I know exactly what I want to happen, but I am taking care as to not rush into it so fast that the reader doesn't have time to become emotionally attached to the characters' plight or becomes overwhelmed. So, as always, feedback is welcome, appreciated, and encouraged.<em>

_This chapter was actually due to be longer but I really didn't want to drag it out since the next chapter has so much action to cover. So I've included the cut material in chapter 4, instead. At least this means I've gotten a good start on the next installment. Yay? Thanks for reading and reviewing._

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><p>nightelf37: Of course, those aren't my notes, but still. I like this story. I think it's great. See ya on Third!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

nightelf37: All right. Let's keep this gravy train rolling. And have some spelling/grammar corrections along the way. Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle.

* * *

><p>"Bonjour." Spy smiled upon his rescued mercs. They looked absolutely terrible but alive, nonetheless.<p>

"Oh, thank God," Miss Pauling sighed in relief. "How did you find us? Actually, never mind. Spy, we have to get out of here and get to the Administrator. Gray's planning on attacking the headquarters."

"Coal Town," he answered simply. "The other mercenaries are already defending it. Come, gather your things. Let us move."

"Sir, yes sir!" Soldier barked and saluted.

Miss Pauling's desperation did not falter as the other mercs shrugged on the layers of clothes they had removed earlier in the heat. Medic happily greeted Archimedes with praise and a pat on the head as the bird perched upon his shoulder. They had already begun following Spy down the hall in a jog by the time Miss Pauling could get his attention again.

"No, we heard everything yesterday. I have to get there and warn the Administrator. Gray's—"

They reached an intersection of the hallway when Spy stopped and signaled for them to remain behind him. The patrolling Medic bot was sure to be near.

"The Administrator is already aware of your disappearance," Spy reassured her. "Wherever Gray decides to attack, the other mercenaries are well beyond capable enough to handle it."

"Spy, you're not listening!" Miss Pauling suddenly exclaimed in a loud, growling whisper. She grabbed his forearm with such force that the group of fleeing mercs actually stopped in surprise. Finally, Spy looked her in the eye with a mixture of concern and surprise. "He has a new robot. It's smart and it's huge. I don't know how Gray is going to use it, but they're going to invade the underground mine shaft near the headquarters."

Spy blinked and his eyes met with the other mercs before falling upon Miss Pauling again. "You're certain of this? It's not meant to be a decoy?"

"Our capture is a decoy. The fact that you're here means things are falling into place just as Gray had intended. I'm only grateful more of you didn't show up." She paused and took a deep breath. "Spy, if he's attacked the headquarters...the respawn core is there."

Spy gazed around the corridor, taking this all into consideration as he tried to come up with a game plan. The stakes of their escape were raised direly. Killing themselves and respawning would get them back onto the battlefield to help the BLU team defend Teufort but if respawn had been taken down, Mann Co. would suddenly be short six mercs and an administrative assistant. It was a risk they couldn't take; not until they were sure.

"Woah, woah, woah," Scout said, breaking the silence. "So you're sayin' we might actually die now? Like die die?"

"No way to know for sure while we're stuck in here," Miss Pauling answered. "We have to get out and find the others and defend the headquarters. Alive. Until we figure out what's going on, we can't underestimate Gray."

"I'm not afraid to die for my country!" Soldier barked.

"Yeh might actually get a chance to," Demoman said. "Unless we move our sorry arses now, we aren't gonna stop no one from doin' nothin' while standin' here in this hallway."

"I know the way out," Spy said. "Follow me. And keep quiet. There's a patrolling Medic bot somewhere in these corridors and—"

The mercs suddenly froze and stared wide-eyed just beyond the Spy.

"—he's right behind me, I assume."

"HUMAN PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED!" the Medic bot blared. "HUMAN PRISONERS HAVE E—"

Heavy ripped the robot's head clean from its shoulders. The bot sputtered and collapsed to the floor in a heap of sparking wires and smoke. But it was too late. The alarm had been sounded. Soon, the mercs were greeted with a wave of robotic Pyros; older models that Gray had left to guard the building. They seemed to amass from nowhere, clanking down the hallway with their flamethrowers in hand as if they had just been remaining dormant along the sidelines, just waiting for the alarm to wake them up.

"Move!" Miss Pauling shouted.

They didn't have time to think. As the Pyros descended upon them, Heavy, Demoman, Soldier, and Spy darted down the left hallway and Medic, Miss Pauling, and Scout bolted right.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The sun was high in the azure sky by the time the mercs had tiredly made their way towards the smoking ruins of Decoy. The BLU team stood dumbfounded next to their few RED counterparts as the remains of the historic saloons and outposts smoldered and crackled. The fire from the explosion had nearly burned itself out but embers still remained glowing beneath charred tinder, coughing out choking, black smoke. Their once-beloved map had been reduced to a post apocalyptic hell.

The robots had delivered the bomb. The mercs had failed.

"How? How could they have gotten here so fast?" RED Sniper thought out loud, bending over to pick up an ash-coated slab from a nearby saloon; the last surviving relic.

"Man, this sucks," Scout said, kicking some charred pieces of wood out of sheer frustration. "I hate losin'. Whadda we do now?"

Pyro suddenly spoke up, muttering something indecipherable beneath his mask. Though his facial expressions were obscured, there was no doubt his body language spoke novels. He was worried.

"The Pyro's right, lads," Demo said heavily. "It's been hours an' Miss Pauling and the rest o' the RED team still aren't back."

"You think something happened?" asked Heavy.

No one spoke for several seconds as they stood contemplating amongst the ruins of Decoy; the heaviness of the situation taking its toll on them. They had lost only one map but with so many uncertainties and the lack of any sort of game plan that remotely made sense, they were quickly becoming overwhelmed with scenarios.

Things weren't quite adding up. Gray Mann may have been a genius, but his robots definitely were not. They operated in a pattern; a pattern that the mercenaries had become accustomed to up until that very day. The robots never had the intelligence to split up or distract the mercs in order to achieve their mission. They always attacked at once. It had really been their biggest weakness. It was boggling the mercs' minds to think that while they had been defending Coal Town, a completely different wave of bots had used the distraction to their advantage to blow up Decoy.

Was this the game plan? Victory by scattered numbers? Did the robots really have the cognitive ability to carry out such a plot?

While the others stood soaking in the destruction, BLU Sniper looked at the ground. His previous career as a game tracker unconsciously kicked in. The bots always came from the same direction when they attacked Decoy. But when he scanned the dirt in which they would have trampled through, he saw only one set of footprints. Sniper narrowed his eyes, approaching the tracks in the dust and following them slowly.

Though the area had been decimated, the ground remained relatively intact. It was as if the dust hadn't yet settled from the explosion. The set of footprints didn't go too far before Sniper had to kick away some rubble to find their continuation. But then they suddenly stopped upon a strange, flat, metal object. It was viciously bent and damaged from the blast, but its shape was strangely familiar; round and big enough for a man to stand upon. And then from beyond it, one set of tracks turned into hundreds.

"Doing recon, Private?" Soldier asked.

He had been the only one paying attention to Sniper's tracking, but when he spoke, the other mercs turned around to observe. At first it looked like he was merely haphazardly exploring the rubble, but when they saw him deep in thought as he stared long and hard at something unseen upon the earth, their interests kicked in.

"What is it?" Spy asked.

"I...I think it's a teleporter. But...it can't be," Sniper answered. "C'mere."

The others mercs carefully made their way towards the Sniper, gathering around the piece of evidence he was now studying.

"You think Engie came through here?" Scout asked.

"Nah, it ain't one'a his," Sniper answered, pointing to the ground.

It was true. The burnt contraption resembled something that could have passed as Engineer's teleporter, but the design was different; alien. They couldn't quite put a finger on it.

RED Sniper added to his counterpart's assessment, "An' look. Those aren't human footprints. One set comes in...hundreds go out."

"So, you're sayin' the robots are buildin' teleporters?" Demo asked innocently, clutching his sticky bomb launcher a little tighter against his chest.

"An' it looks like they're usin' 'em to flood the maps with robots before we even have a chance to defend."

"Shit," BLU Scout whispered. "So now what? They could be attackin' anywhere next. We need the other RED team chumps. And where the fuck are the Engineers?!"

It was a valid question, and the mercs knew they weren't going to find a solution to their problems by just standing there. It had been hours since the RED Spy had gone to retrieve their stolen comrades from Gray Mann's tower and no relief was in sight. RED Sniper crouched down and ran his fingers along the tracks in the dirt as if they held some sort of secret that would only be revealed if caressed; like rubbing the grime off a magic lamp.

"We're flyin' blind here," he remarked. "We're gonna have t'split up. Someone go to the headquarters to find the Administrator and the others go to Mannworks and defend."

"You sure zhat's a good idea?" Medic asked. "Vhat if zhe RED Spy has been captured during zhe rescue mission? Perhaps zhat is zhe reason he hasn't returned wizh zhe rest. Didn't he suspect zhat Gray vas isolating zhe teams on purpose?"

"If that spook's been caught, then that's all the more reason we need t'come up with a better plan," BLU Sniper said. "But we keep runnin' on assumptions. As long as we don't know what the hell's goin' on, we're never goin' t'get a one-up on Gray."

"I like your thinking!" Soldier said with a smile. "A recon team! I'm in!"

"No," RED Sniper said, standing up and smacking the dust off his thighs. "We're goin' t'need all the firepower we have to continue defending. The next closest map is Mannworks so I'm bettin' that's where they'll be hittin' next. I'll go to the Administrator."

BLU Spy took a long drag of his cigarette and regarded Sniper through narrowed eyes. "By yourself?"

"Look, if Gray really is aimin' for prisoners now, the less of us that are sittin' ducks, the better, mate. I can handle this. And once I'm done with the Administrator, I'm gonna try t'find that damn teleporter source. Maybe it'll slow the bots down enough to give us a chance to regroup."

It was risky and every instinct in the mercs was screaming at them that they were in over their heads, but the longer they sat contemplating it, they knew the more trouble they'd be in.

The lack of any opposition sealed the deal. Reluctantly, the BLU team began shuffling out of the ruins of Decoy and began the journey towards Mannworks. It would be an arduous walk; across the sands and up the mountains. The sun was now baking the ground beneath their feet and sucking any remnant of moisture out of the air. But they knew they couldn't dawdle. The more time they spent wandering aimlessly, the more time the bots had to infiltrate the maps. And with a teleporter thrown into the mix, there was no telling if Mannworks was even where they needed to be, but they had no other leads to go on.

Red Sniper sighed and gazed up at the mountains ahead of him. A hand was placed on his shoulder and he turned his head to see his fellow Pyro silently comforting him. His teammate muttered something low and indecipherable, but Sniper sighed and nodded.

"You too, mate."

And with that, they began their separate journeys.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

It was bad enough that the mercs had spent the last twelve hours locked in a stifling boiler room. To be chased by fire-blasting robot Pyros was just cruel. The once refreshing halls turned into wind tunnels of Hell behind Miss Pauling, Scout, and Medic as they dashed aimlessly down whatever route put the most distance between them and their pursuers. Archimedes fluttered behind them, weaving around the hallway gleefully as if he they were only playing a game of tag.

Ahead, they could see a set of metallic double doors and prayed it was unlocked. If not, well then...they'd find out if respawn was down soon enough.

The sound of flame throwers behind them was soon joined by another weapon. They didn't have to turn around to figure out what it was, though. Jarate darts whizzed by their heads and violently embedded themselves into the floor only inches from their feet.

The three of them collided with the metal door. But they realized it wasn't a door at all. It was an elevator shaft. Medic desperately slammed his fist into the nearby up/down button; whatever would grant them entry faster.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Scout pleaded, glancing over his shoulder at the Pyros and Snipers closing the gap.

Jarate darts pinged off the floor and wall beside them and the trio was thankful that it wasn't a group of Huntsman bots on their tail.

_Bung bung!_

The elevator announced its arrival and the doors slid open. Scout, Miss Pauling, and Medic practically threw themselves in and began hitting the panel of buttons on the inside. But just as elevators do, the doors remained open for several seconds. It might as well have been hours. The mercs stared in horror as the wall of fire blasting from the Pyro's flame throwers came closer and closer; the Jarate darts hitting nearer to home with each passing second.

"Look out!" Scout shouted and whipped Miss Pauling behind him, turning to shield her. A Jarate dart struck him in the shoulder, making him grunt in pain. He reached back and ripped it out, throwing it upon the ground; its contents already emptied into his body.

"Medic, close the door!" Miss Pauling cried from behind the Scout.

"I'm trying!" he growled, sweat pouring down his temples. "Archimedes!"

The dove swooped into the shaft and perched himself upon Medic's shoulder; completely unaware of the danger. All the mercs could do was gape in terror as the Pyros and Snipers closed the gap. Maybe respawn was still intact. Maybe they wouldn't really die after all. Maybe, just maybe, they would wake up fresh and unscathed inside the respawn room and live to laugh about this someday.

But they wouldn't get a chance to find out. By the grace of God, the doors slid closed.

Several seconds passed before Miss Pauling, Scout, and Medic finally exhaled. They stood paralyzed with fear and exhilaration inside the elevator; their heavy breathing and thundering hearts joined by a calm, generic orchestra of flutes over the loudspeaker.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Meanwhile, on the other end of the tower, the remaining RED team captives weren't faring much better. As Soldier screamed out retreat orders, his group was well ahead of him, dashing down a long corridor with an army of Medic and Sniper bots trailing behind. Unfortunately, they did not have the benefit of an elevator at the end of the hallway to whisk them away to safety. It was the end of the line.

"Wha' do we do?!" Demoman cried. "We're gonna be chopped-up haggis in abou' five seconds!"

"We stand our ground and fight like men!" Soldier answered.

"We're more likely to stand our ground and die like idiots," said the Spy. He glanced over his shoulder and worriedly watched the bots approach.

In their moment of panic, Heavy took it upon himself to begin trying to open the doors in the immediate vicinity. They were all heavily locked, however. All of them except one: a tiny single door tucked into the corner at the end of the hall.

"Come!" he shouted for the others. They barely heard his voice over the clamor of Sniper bots stamping towards them, waving their kukris. "This way!"

The mercs didn't question him for a second. They saw the open door and they bolted for it, practically falling into the room in a heap as Heavy slammed the door shut behind him. Instantly, they were flooded in darkness.

"Demoman, kindly remove your elbow from my ribcage," Spy said calmly, albeit breathlessly.

"I'm tryin'. But I can't move. Someone's sittin' on me."

"I think that might be me," Soldier said as a matter of factually.

"Then ge' off."

Carefully, the mercs disentangled themselves, though they couldn't be sure where exactly they were supposed to move. The room was pitch black. Spy reached into his lapel and felt for his lighter, carefully flicking the lid open and illuminating their surroundings in a faint, yellow glow.

At first, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to what little light the flame granted them, but it wasn't long before they deciphered where they were.

"Is broom closet," Heavy said.

The four of them had crammed into a small utility closet. Spy saw the string from a pull light hanging from the ceiling and gave it a quick tug, flooding the tiny room in a florescent sheen. Satisfied, he flicked his lighter shut and sheathed it back into his breast pocket.

"Perfect," he deadpanned.

They were surrounded by various cleaning tools; brooms, mops, even a riding-sweeper. Shelves were lined with cleaning chemicals and solvents, enough to give the room the pungent odor of Lysol.

Outside, the Sniper bots reached the door and began their assault, aimlessly striking the metal door with their machetes; the Medics ÜberCharging them without purpose. Heavy kept his back pressed against the door, successfully barricading the mercs safely inside.

"Now wha'?" Demo whined. "We're stoock in 'ere!"

Spy ignored him, visually taking in all the various cleaning agents stocked upon the shelves. He scanned the labels and then looked at the brooms, mops, rags, and buckets hanging upon the walls. And then he smiled.

Lady Luck was a generous gal.

"We need weapons," Heavy said and did his best to ignore the pounding of the Sniper bots upon the door outside.

"Yes, and we're fortunate," Spy said, taking down a bottle of floor cleaner and a rag.

"How in the bloody hell are we fortunate, mate?" Demoman continued to cry. "We're in a broom closet. Wha' are we goin' ta do? Mop the robots t'death?" He barely noticed the Spy removing the cap off of the bottle of floor cleaner and shoving the rag into the opening. "Unless yeh know a way ta take out a few dozen knife-wavin' robots then-" Spy shoved the bottle into Demoman's hands and took out his lighter. Immediately, Demo stopped speaking and looked blankly at the object he now held. His eyes slowly moved upwards to the lighter sitting innocently in Spy's palm, and the back down to the bottle.

_Warning: Extremely flammable. Keep away from open flames._

And then Demoman slowly grinned; his face evolving from fear and anguish to a gleeful deviousness the likes of which none of them had ever seen before.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

"The plan is working, Master," a Heavy Weight Champ declared in its gravelly voice. It stood behind the small, frail man it deemed its master like a scolded school boy.

Gray Mann did not turn to face his robot army but instead stood peering out from the platform of his tank, proudly taking in the serenity of the Colorado Plateau. Off in the distance, the remnant smoke from Decoy's destruction was still wafting against an increasingly cloudy sky.

The Mecha Engineer stood by his side, staring out emotionlessly.

"Perfect," Gray said. "And the BLU mercs?"

"Stationed at Mannworks, awaiting the attack," the Heavy Weight Champ answered.

Gray smiled, taking in a deep breath and boasting his chest. Things were falling into place better than he had imagined. The mercenaries weren't as smart as he had initially given them credit for. Eighteen of them together **were** a formidable force, but throw in a few distractions to break them up and you have chaos. Still, Gray knew not to get too cocky. He could keep half a team busy with his robot army but when the combined eighteen mercenaries of BLU and RED joined forces, they were surprisingly efficient. If the RED team prisoners escape, Gray knew he'd have to move fast if he wanted to attack the Mann Co. headquarters before they rallied.

"The teleporters are all in place throughout the maps, Creator. Are we to go ahead as planned?" the Heavy Weight Champ asked. "To take down the human respawn system and then destroy all Mann Co. facilities at once?"

Gray sighed. The bizarre, steel contraption on his back sat like a silver scorpion over his suit. "Yes, and you don't have to say the entire plan out loud every chance you get. We've been over this."

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Now get the tanks ready."

The wind howled down the abandoned mine shaft like some caged monster. Old, wooden walls and support beams creaked achingly. The mine looked as if one more gust of wind would simply knock it to oblivion, so Gray knew he had to move fast and carefully. Moving the tanks through would be risky, but he wasn't prepared to spare any expense for the fall of his brothers' embarrassing legacy.

The Mann Co. headquarters loomed past the long, winding mining route like a munitions-pumping kingdom.

The mighty empire of shame would fall.

But before he could move forward with this plan, something approached him from the horizon. It was a human, coming from the direction of the headquarters, but not one of the mercenaries. And he was carrying a television hanging from his neck...

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

RED Sniper was grateful to turn the ignition of his Land Rover off and finally be greeted with a bit of silence once he reached the front of Mann Co. The serenity of his surroundings was like a breath of fresh air. A warm, dry breeze rustled the brush around him and scattered tumbleweeds along the cracked ground. He exhaled slowly and let his head rest back against his seat, closing his eyes and taking it all in. It reminded him of the outback. No war zones, no bombs, just nature and the sole company of your own thoughts as you slow-roasted under the sun.

With a sigh, Sniper reluctantly opened his eyes and forced himself out of his camper van. He slammed the door shut behind him and gazed up at the towering Mann Co. building before him. Truth be told, he was a little nervous. The only time he had ever stepped foot inside the headquarters was when they first hired him, and it was only to sign his life away on a contract. Easy for the Sniper. He didn't care much about why he was fighting or for who or what; he just wanted the paycheck.

What a joke.

No paycheck now.

Sniper had no idea why he was even still fighting. He should just get back in his camper, drive right back down the mountain, and keep going; never looking back. He'd always wanted to visit Florida...

But still, there was that ever-tiny nagging pang of guilt deep down in his heart. He had tried to ignore it but to no avail. When this whole thing was over, he vowed to take a lengthy vacation...if he survived.

Sniper dropped the keys to his truck in his pocket and walked over to the passenger window, reaching in to grab his rifle and slung it around his shoulder. Just in case. As he began walking up the drive towards the main entrance, he wondered what he would say when he found the Administrator.

_G'day, scary lady! So your assistant is still missin', Gray's robots know how to build teleporters, Decoy's been blown, and we're probably all gonna die! But how are you? The sun sure is shinin' bright today, ain__'__t it?_

He grumbled under his breath and continued trudging; gravel crackling under every step. The building ahead was an expanse of towering tinted windows and cement blockades. Smoke once poured from the factory chimneys that were now dormant. At the top of the tall office tower was a billboard with the words that could be seen illuminated for miles around. Mann Co.

Sniper stared up at the sign wryly. Perhaps they wouldn't have to work so hard to protect their company if it didn't advertise itself so blatantly.

_Might as well just paint a bleedin' target on the side of the buildin',_ Sniper thought.

Without further ado, he approached the main entrance when, suddenly, his peripheral vision caught something out of the corner of his eye. Sniper quickly turned his head to the right, seeing a figure disappear behind the boulders off in the distance. It was a female figure, wearing either purple or black; he couldn't be sure. What puzzled him, however, was who she looked like.

Was the Administrator out here taking a stroll while Mann Co. was going to all hell? There was something in the way she moved; a calm and determined haste as if she was trying to get somewhere quick but not warrant any attention in the process. Curiosity and suspicion got the best of Sniper, and with a quick glance at the building before him, he turned his back on it and began to follow the Administrator down the hill. It had to be her. He'd recognized that poofy, black hair and skeleton-like frame anywhere.

It felt like he had been trailing her for a mile before she descended down a winding path lined with boulders and a rickety wood and chain-link fence. Suddenly, she had reached what appeared to be an old mining shaft. Danger signs warned wary travelers of the dangers of entering the unstable tunnel, but the Administrator pressed forward, unwaveringly. Now Sniper's interest was completely piqued.

By the time he reached the entrance, he could see bright sunlight pouring from the exit on the other side, but no sign of the Administrator. With a careful glance over his shoulder, Sniper ducked into the shaft and continued to let his curiosity lead the way. The tunnel was dark and smelled heavily of iron. Crumbles of dirt occasionally rained down upon his hat from the ceiling, but altogether, it wasn't completely unpleasant.

When he arrived at the other side, he heard voices and immediately fell back, pressing his back against the tunnel wall and allowing the darkness to hide him. It was definitely the Administrator...but she was talking to someone Sniper had never heard before.

"You're late," a male voice said.

"Well, perhaps if you hadn't requested that I meet you in a mining pit, I might have been more willing to hurry," the Admin sneered.

"My dear, you know I couldn't very well just waltz through your doors. Not with my creations."

"Yes, your robots. I'd appreciate it if you'd tame your dogs. I see they wasted no time killing the messenger I sent. Thank you for keeping the television intact, at least."

Sniper's eyes widened. Robots? Was she talking to Gray? It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep out of sight and not rush the scene with his rifle raised.

"Shall we get right down to it, then?" Gray said.

"I know what you're after. I can't say I blame you. I worked for your brothers for many years and they offered me nothing but stupidity and headaches. But you're different. I know this. That bumbling Australian, Saxton Hale, has those mercenaries fighting to defend a company that technically doesn't even exist any more."

"They had their chance to leave. I will admit their loyalty is admirable. But if they had simply turned their backs in the first place, I would never have deemed them a threat. Now, knowing they will always be on my back, I can't have them running around trying to blow up what is rightfully mine."

"I understand."

"So why did you request my audience, Helen?"

The Administrator reached into the lapel of her purple blazer and pulled out a slim cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag. "I want to offer you a proposition."

Gray smiled and raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Oh? I'm listening."

"Firstly, I'd appreciate it if you'd free my assistant. I've been informed of her capture; I want her released."

"Ah, the fiery secretary." Gray took a deep breath and considered this. "It's her fault, really. Would you not have done the same if someone was spying on your beloved company?"

"No, I would have killed them."

Gray chortled, his features softening. "I like your business ethics."

"I'm not finished."

"Oh?"

"I trust you have already rightly assumed that I am no simpleton, Mr. Mann. Unlike the others, I considered your arrival a blessing rather than a burden. I have no time for petty thing such as emotional attachments or loyalties. That being said, there is no reason for me to keep lingering at a dead company, wasting my time on eighteen idiots fighting your robots over the ownership of gravel. It's time to jump off of this hamster wheel and join a real empire. Yours."

Gray took in all that the Administrator was saying, cradling his chin pensively; the glint of amusement still in his steely eyes. "So, you want me to release your assistant and then let you just...join my side? Interesting. I will admit, I had heard about you before I killed my brothers. It seemed that you were the unwitting glue that held Mann Co. together. But there was something about you I just couldn't put my finger on. To kill you, in my opinion, would be such a waste."

"I'm flattered," the Admin deadpanned. "Not that you would have succeeded but that's beside the point. If you accept, I can also sweeten the pot."

Gray crossed his arms. "I'm listening."

"Respawn. I let you destroy it. The mercenaries can no longer respawn. They die and you get rid of eighteen thorns in your side and I wipe away a legacy of humiliation. You will also become the sole owner of the world's biggest Australium cache."

"My dear lady, I already had every intention of destroying your precious respawn."

"I knew you would, which is why I requested this meeting." the Administrator replied, nursing her cigarette. "You should know better than to assume the Mann Co. facility isn't heavily fortified. As…" she glanced at the Mecha Engineer, "ample as your robots are, you have to remember that Mann Co. is a munitions factory. Your robots, no matter how numerous, would simply be nothing but target practice. I figured I'd stop you before we both wasted precious time and effort. You agree to my terms, I walk away from Mann Co. I shut down all defensive systems. You give me my assistant, and I give you the lives of eighteen pests. We can end this in a way that benefits us both. Tonight."

Gray paused, taking in everything the Administrator had said. The amusement in his eyes had developed into a contemplative interest. Finally, after a minute of thought, he took a deep breath.

"All of the Australium in the world, you say?"

"Every ounce."

"And you'd be willing to let your employees die for job security?"

The Administrator was getting impatient. "I thought I made myself clear on that matter. It's not as if anyone would miss them. They are societal rejects, Mr. Mann. Their deaths are nothing more than putting eighteen rabid dogs to sleep."

"You have a way with words, my dear." Gray sighed. "I will admit, your services and Australium cache are enticing. How can I turn down such a generous offer? …Very well. I'll contact my headquarters and have the robots release your little Miss Pauling at once. And as of right now, you are both officially hired."

Sniper shook his head in disgust. Just like that, eh? The betrayal really came as no surprise. Out of all the mercenaries, he deemed himself the least loyal; sticking around only because it got his folks off his back and brought in good money, so he couldn't blame the Administrator for looking out for her best interest. Still, there was a pang of anger in his heart. He had fought so hard to keep Mann Co. afloat, even if it was for the paycheck. The others, though, fought with pride. As ridiculous as it was, to see them all devote their lives to their jobs only to be stabbed in the back by their own boss was a disgrace. They didn't deserve to die. Sniper may not be a sentimental man, but he still had standards. Not even Spy would sink this low.

He had decided he heard enough. Carefully, he backed away from the mineshaft wall and began to retreat back towards the boulder-lined path he had snaked down before. Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he broke into an all out sprint. He had to get back down to Mannworks to warn the others; they, at least, deserved a fighting chance. To go into battle with respawn off would be certain suicide.

Disgust and rage welled up inside him. If he got out of this alive, he was going to have some words with the Administrator.

And his knife would do the talking.

_A/N: Thank you for your patience as I write this. Inbred Reindeer, you kept threatening my life if I didn't write more chapters. This is the second one I've put up since you last reviewed and you are nowhere to be found. I am disappoint._

_Thank you to the two people who took the time to review. Your feedback is appreciated. And thank you to Xguy110 for calling me lazy._

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><p>nightelf37: Of course, that's not mine, but I'm keeping it. See ya on Third!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

nightelf37: Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle.

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><p>"On my count," RED Spy said calmly, holding up a finger to signal the others to wait.<p>

He stood in the utility closet with his fellow Heavy, Demoman, and Soldier and he wondered if they felt as ridiculous as they all looked. Mercenaries and men of war reduced to satire as they were left to improvise an attack using only cleaning supplies.

Calmly, he lit the rags hanging limply from the necks of various unknown solvents and nodded to his cohorts. They nodded back and mouthing a countdown from three, Spy turned the handle of the door and kicked it open.

Demoman, double-fisting two bottles of highly flammable cleaners, threw them at the awaiting robot mob. The makeshift Molotovs splattered against the Snipers and blossomed into a splatter of fire. The inferno spread quickly and the screaming robots fell to the floor in a heap of burning metal; the paint bubbling off their skin. This was enough to clear the way for the other mercs, who burst from the utility closet with a chorus of war cries. Melee weapons had been reduced to mops and broomsticks. Heavy charged upon the riding floor-cleaner with a scream; mowing down several unsuspecting Medic bots at an embarrassingly slow speed. He looked comical hunched upon the tiny seat of the machine, gripping the steering wheel as best as he could with his massive hands. The hallway became a crime scene of flaming household cleaners, splintered broom handles, and determined assassins.

"Have at them, lads!" Demoman cried from the front lines, relishing in the sudden 'whoosh!' of fire as the cleaners continued to engulf discombobulated robots.

Miraculously, they were making a dent in the robot numbers. But the solvents were quickly burning out and they were still severely outnumbered. Even with Heavy running them down with the riding floor cleaner, the most damage he was dealing was a harsh buffing. The Sniper bots clambered back to their feet and continued swinging their knives.

Spy took it upon himself to run back to the utility room to prepare another Lysol Molotov. He had just finished stuffing another rag into a bottle when a Sniper bot came running in behind him, madly waving around its kukri. Managing to arch his back and shy away from the blade by only centimeters, Spy found himself unarmed and cornered. Soon, he was locked in a dance as the Sniper slashed its knife and Spy could only sidestep away before it sliced his stomach. He ducked and bent; the blade remaining only a hair's breadth away from his flesh with every move, until he was pinned up against the back wall. The Sniper bot pulled back its mechanical arm and prepared to strike again, but Spy wasn't about to volunteer himself to find out whether respawn was still working or not. Just as the robot jutted its kukri forward, Spy let his knees buckle and he ducked out of the way. The knife slammed into a grey metal box where his head once was and suddenly, the Sniper bot began to convulse violently. Electricity arced off its metal skin and it gave a warbled, tinny cry before the utility room began to smell of burning wires and smoke poured from the robot's eyes and mouth. Then, the utility box gave a loud pop and a shower of sparks rained down upon Spy before everything went black.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The elevator hummed softly as it carried Scout, Miss Pauling, and Medic upwards at a snail's pace. For the next several seconds, they were granted peace from their robot attackers and they slowly deflated as the immediate danger faded away into air conditioned bliss.

Luckily, in the panic, Medic was smart enough to hit the top floor button, giving them a bit of time before the gates of Hell opened once again. In the meantime, they mentally regrouped.

"Zhat was too close," the Medic said exasperatedly. "Is everybody okay?"

"Yeah," Miss Pauling sighed, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

Medic nodded and then looked at Scout. He looked a little green around the gills. "Scout?"

"I'm fine. Just took a dart, that's all." He rubbed his shoulder tenderly.

"Alright, let's get off zhis elevator and find a vay out. But zhere might be more robots waiting when zhe door opens. Get behind me, Fraulein."

Miss Pauling was about to kindly remind Medic that while his concern was endearing, she was not his responsibility. But before she could assure him that she was capable of keeping herself safe without needing a human shield, Scout giggled. Miss Pauling closed her mouth and gave him a strange look.

"...Is something funny? Because I don't find our current situation very humorous," she said.

"Ha! Humerus! Like the bone! Get it, doc?" was Scout's answer.

Medic would have scolded Scout for acting so juvenile if he hadn't been so impressed the idiot knew what a humerus was.

The elevator binged softly with every floor it climbed; the soft music only serving to make Scout laugh harder before he turned his attention to Miss Pauling. "And you. You, you, you…you're great, you know that?" He sighed and smiled at her drunkenly. "Really, really great. And hot."

Miss Pauling raised an eyebrow and gave a sidelong glance to the Medic. "Uh, what was in that dart?"

Medic bent over to retrieve the discarded dart from the floor. Curiously, he studied it and then held it to his nose before instantly recoiling from the sharp stench it emitted.

"It's certainly not urine," he said. "I can't really identify it; like a mixture of chemicals."

Miss Pauling did her best to reject Scout's constant attempts at hugging her while she looked curiously at the dart in Medic's hand.

"A drug?"

"Yes, wizh some psychedelic effects, perhaps."

"Whatever, man, I feel great. Especially with Miss Pauling here," Scout said and leaned forward as if he were going to give her a kiss. She moved out of the way and watched as Scout stumbled face-first into the elevator wall and then began laughing hysterically.

"Whatever it is, it better wear off by the time the doors open or else we're in trouble."

And just then, there was a loud _'thock!'_ and the elevator went black, halting immediately. For the next several seconds, Miss Pauling and Medic could only stand in stunned silence as the realization that the power had died dawned on them. Scout made a low 'ooooh!' sound in the dark before laughing again.

Miss Pauling sighed. "You've got to be kidding me."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The mercenaries didn't allow the sudden blackout to serve as a distraction as they continued fighting off wave after wave of Sniper and Medic bots. The lingering fire upon the dead robots scattered across the floor provided enough light to continue. But soon, the noxious smoke from the solvents and paint burning upon the metal corpses began to fill the hallway. The mercs coughed and fought through watery eyes but they remained steadfast. That is, until the smoke reached the ceiling.

The floodgates opened; the sprinkler heads burst forth to life and began whipping torrents of water down upon the battlefield. Suddenly, the remaining robots halted their attack and began to sputter and choke; the smoke pouring from their joints only adding to the smog that kept the sprinklers churning. The mercenaries stared in wonder—broomsticks and mops held in mid-strike—while the water soaked into the robots and fried their circuits. All at once, there was the hissing of chemical fires being extinguished and acrid steam spewing from the eyes and mouths of every cyborg in the hall. The robots let out pathetic cries as they broke down into heaps of scrap metal upon the floor.

The floor cleaner that Heavy had been riding also met its demise. He was all too grateful to climb off as it sputtered and died. Soon, the mercs found themselves standing soaked amidst a corridor of metal shells. For the next few minutes, all they could do was catch their breaths and stare at each other in wonderment at their marvelous luck. And then, smiles grew all around and they erupted into cheers.

"And that is how it's done, ladies!" Soldier shouted proudly.

Spy carefully maneuvered himself out from behind the electrocuted Sniper bot and straightened his tie. Grabbing a few more bottles of cleaner and rags, he stepped out into the hallway and immediately sneered as the water from the sprinkler heads saturated his suit.

"We need to move," he said, tossing a bottle to Demoman. "More will be coming. Let us find the others and get out."

Despite the suffocating stench of burning rubber and the insufferable cold of the sprinklers, the mercs were in high spirits. They nodded and regrouped, running down the hall in a fury of wet clothes and broomsticks.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Miss Pauling wasn't sure things could have gotten any worse. She was stuck deep inside enemy headquarters in a stifling, dead elevator with a pigeon and a drunk Scout who was shamelessly hitting on her at every opportune moment… and no possible escape. At least Medic was somewhat comforting. It took several minutes for the emergency lights to kick in, and she wasn't sure if she was grateful or not. At least in the dark, Scout just stayed in the corner and made ghost noises. When the lights came back on, it was as if he had forgotten Miss Pauling was stuck in the elevator with him and he began his horrible courtship all over again. The effects of the Sniper's dart hadn't worn off yet. However, as time went by he was becoming wearier and less obnoxious. He now sat on the floor with his head resting up against the wall; eyes closed and smiling at whatever visions were dancing behind his eyelids.

"We could try prying the door apart," Miss Pauling suggested to the Medic.

"Ja. But zhere might be robots waiting on zhe ozher side. Unfortunately, ve're pretty safe inside zhis elevator for zhe time being. A building zhis size should have a generator. Ve just have to wait for it to kick on."

"Miss P," Scout mumbled from the corner. "Marry me."

Miss Pauling frowned at the Medic. Her glare spoke volumes. She'd rather chance a robot attack than spend another minute in that elevator listening to Scout propose to her repeatedly. Medic seemed to understand. Nodding, he began pulling at the seams of the elevator door; Miss Pauling tugging from the other side. But no amount of effort could make the door budge.

Then suddenly, the power flickered back on and the elevator lurched. Miss Pauling and Medic fell back, catching themselves on the railings and exchanging excited looks. They began their ascent as if nothing had ever happened; the light, airy music over the p.a. continuing with nothing more than a small blip.

"Thank God," Miss Pauling sighed in relief.

They were almost to the top floor.

"Get behind me," Medic said.

"I can handle this," replied Miss Pauling. She stared ahead determinedly by Medic's side, her body tense.

Scout had been fairly quiet for the last minute or so; they had nearly forgotten he was there. Miss Pauling looked over her shoulder and saw him still sitting on the floor, though the drunken smirk had faded and was replaced with a frown. He looked pale, and sweat was beading along his brow beneath the bill of his cap.

"Medic?" Miss Pauling said to get his attention.

Medic looked away from the door and noticed the physical change in his teammate. The drug from the dart must have had some unpleasant, lingering side effects. He knelt down in front of Scout, placing a hand on the young merc's clammy cheek.

"You look a bit green around zhe gills, Junge."

Scout peeled open one eye but raised his hand to shield the light from his field of view. He contorted his face into a pained grimace and smacked the Medic's hand away.

"I'm fine," he lied. "Why's it so frickin' bright in here?"

With a groan, he buried his face in his hands as a wave of nausea and pain came over him. He felt insufferably hot; as if they were back in the boiler room again.

"Top floor," Miss Pauling said, her voice shaking with a sense of urgency.

The elevator made a dinging sound to announce their arrival.

"Scout, stand up!" Medic hissed and grabbed one of Scout's wrists, yanking it from his eyes and pulling him to his feet.

Despite the overwhelming malaise, Scout somehow managed to stand with minimal effort. He stumbled a bit but was able to hold his ground well enough with the help of a nearby rail. He really hoped he wasn't going to throw up in front of Miss Pauling.

The doors slid open and the three of them tensed. What greeted them on the other side was their worst fear. A group of Sniper bots stood poised in the hall, their eyes glowing blue and their knives raised.

"Close the door! Close the door!" Miss Pauling cried.

But it was too late. As Medic lunged forward to hit the control panel, the robot Snipers stepped forward into the elevator door, effectively preventing it from shutting upon them.

The trio stepped back, pressing themselves against the back of the elevator and waiting for their demise. They were trapped and unarmed. All they could do was brace themselves for the inevitable hacking of kukris. Once again, Miss Pauling found herself being shoved behind the Scout. His chivalry wasn't completely unappreciated, but it was rather unnecessary at this point. Despite the fact that he looked like he was about to pass out at any given moment, he held his ground in front of her.

There weren't enough swear words to quite cover how screwed they were. But just when they prepared themselves to taste the business end of a blade, something in the robots' eyes flickered. They gave a shudder as if their wiring had suddenly been reprogrammed and without a word, they lowered their weapons and took a step back.

"...What the hell just happened?" Miss Pauling said, looking at the robots warily. "Why aren't they killing us?"

Medic pushed his glasses back up his nose. He could feel his heartbeat hammering against his rib cage but he took a deep breath and composed himself.

"Who cares?" Scout said. "Let's just get outta here."

They didn't really feel like discussing the peculiarity of the situation nor were they fond of looking a gift horse in the mouth. The Sniper bots' eyes flickered as if there was a haze of static snow behind them. With a puzzled look, Medic hit the L button inside the elevator and the three of them watched the docile robots disappear behind the sliding doors.

The mercs remained frozen in place, as if they were afraid that they had just dreamt the whole thing and that the doors would open again any second with a fanfare of bullets and knives. But the elevator began an obvious descent; flute music still playing softly over the speaker.

Scout was the first to break the spell. With a heavy sigh of relief, he sank back down to the floor and resumed hiding his face from the blaring ceiling lights.

"Zhat vas very strange," Medic said quietly.

Miss Pauling blinked behind her glasses in a daze. Had they perhaps been killed and just didn't realize it yet? Maybe they'd walk out of the elevator and turn around to see their physical bodies in a heap of blood upon the floor. When the elevator reached the lobby, she had her chance to find out. They were still tense when the doors slid open, but the only thing to greet them on the other side was Heavy, Soldier, Spy, and Demoman running towards them from the opposite end of the hall.

"Heavy!" Medic shouted.

"Doktor!"

Miss Pauling's face lit up. "Guys!"

The sprinklers had thankfully died by then but the carnage left behind by the other mercs was still littered across the floor. The stench of burning electricity hit her like a ton of bricks and she covered her nose with the back of her hand.

If Scout hadn't been so woozy, he would have complained that he didn't get to lend a hand in the robot massacre, but all he could do was sit on the floor looking absolutely miserable.

Medic ran ahead to greet the other mercs, leaving Scout and Miss Pauling in the elevator. Miss Pauling knelt down next to Scout and gently put her hand on his forearm. Reluctantly, he lifted his head and squinted into the light. It surrounded Miss Pauling like a halo and he swore she never looked more beautiful; sweaty face, messy hair, and all.

"Can you run?" she asked.

Scout tried to put on his most confident face. "Of course," he scoffed. "Who do ya think I am?"

All of his muscles felt like they had been ripped to shreds. Whatever was in that dart, it sucked.

Miss Pauling stood up and offered her hand to him but he waved it off, standing up on his own with great effort. She knew she should thank him; if he hadn't moved her out of the way, it would be her feeling sick and drunk from a poison dart, not him. But gratuities would have to wait. With a nod, they ran from the elevator to meet the others.

"What the hell happened down here?" Miss Pauling asked when she reached them.

"We had to get a little...creative," Spy said. His eyes fell upon Scout, who was looking more drained with every passing second. "What happened to him?"

"Jarate dart. Kind of. Look, never mind. We can talk about this later. We have to get out of here. Now."

"Agreed."

Once again, they were fleeing as one unit. They ran without abandon, not even caring if there were more robots waiting around the corner. They've wasted enough time goofing around.

For once, Scout wasn't at the head of the pack. He was feeling increasingly weak as the drug from the dart continued to linger in his blood. His arms and legs were like bags of rocks and he could feel his pulse racing in his head. All he wanted was to get out, take a shower, eat some food, and sleep for a week.

"Exit's just up ahead," Spy announced, as if he could read Scout's mind.

It was too easy. Why weren't the robots coming out to attack? And why had they retreated from the elevator? Things weren't adding up. The halls were once swarming with Snipers, Pyros, and Medics all sounding the alert and launching their assault but now the corridor was as empty and dormant as a high school on a Saturday night.

The mercs reached the main entrance and without hesitation, they burst forth from the doors. Archimedes swooped through the air, taking flight towards the RED team headquarters. He didn't notice the Medic or the rest of the mercs collectively halting, bumping into each other's backs as their feet couldn't quite comprehend the notion of stopping. Now they were frozen in place. Their mouths fell open and their eyes widened in shock.

Standing there, facing the entrance with his hands folded behind his back as if he had been patiently waiting the entire time, stood Gray Mann with a small legion of Minor League Scouts.

"Oh, good, you made it out," Gray said. "I sent a signal for my robot guards to stand down and let you go and it looks like you've found your way out of the boiler room all by yourself. Good, good."

He brought his hands forward where he held a large, clunky satellite phone. Whipping the antennae up and dialing a number, he waited patiently for a response from the other end; never taking his sly gaze off of Miss Pauling.

"Yes, she is here. Safe and sound." With nothing more, he hung up and handed the phone off to a waiting robot. Gray's smile widened and he smoothed out his suit. "Miss Pauling, if you could come with me, please."

Scout suddenly found the strength to push to the front of the group and placed himself protectively in front of Miss Pauling.

"She ain't goin' nowhere with you," he growled.

The other mercs followed suit and Miss Pauling suddenly found herself surrounded by six human shields. They glowered at Gray, fists clenched as they stood tall and defiant over her small frame. They had just been through hell and back; there was no way they were going to let Gray take any one of them ever again, especially Miss Pauling.

Gray's only response was a condescending smile.

Then, suddenly, the ground rocked with a gigantic explosion. Instinctively, Miss Pauling and the mercs ducked as a massive roar reverberated through the air. The explosion seemed to go on forever and Miss Pauling was able to peek out from her arms to see Gray standing calmly by his horde of robots as if nothing had happened at all. Then Miss Pauling saw off in the distance just what had blown up. The color drained from her cheeks and her mouth fell open.

It was the headquarters. A mushroom cloud of black smoke erupted into the sky. They could feel the heat from the blast even from where they stood down in the valley. Total and utter shock claimed her and all she could do was gawk at the column of fire that churned in the distance where Mann Co. once stood.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The RED Sniper had never driven so fast in his life. He white-knuckled his steering wheel as his van fishtailed down the empty, desert road towards Mannworks. Patience was his forte but time was not on his side. He cursed under his breath as he recounted what he had heard the Administrator saying only minutes ago. If it weren't for the fact that he would have been blasted away by the robots standing by Gray at the time, he would have charged in and offed every single one of them right then and there. Sniper was never a fan of the Administrator. He found her crude and untrustworthy and it turned out that his suspicions were correct all along.

Every few seconds, Sniper glanced at his rearview mirror, expecting to see the shrinking Mann Co. building behind him burst into flames. He knew he could simply keep driving and leave Teufort behind for good, save his skin and live a nice, happy life to retirement. But he had a certain moral code he didn't really display; one that wouldn't allow his mates to just die like sheep at a slaughter. Sniper wasn't a coward. Everyone deserved a chance, even that backstabbing Spy.

The Administrator's the real backstabber.

Sniper began to sneer. His upper lip twitched and he trembled with anger. Soon, as he rounded the mountain towards Mannworks, the desert started to give way to more greenery. This was the area where the rain could penetrate and regularly water the land, allowing a misty, green temperate zone to sprout. The sun was beginning to set in the west, casting a foreboding gloom over the road as clouds rolled in and became trapped in the valley.

Finally, he could see Mannworks ahead and began blaring his horn, hoping the mercs were there to heed his warning.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Inside respawn, the BLU team and the RED Pyro were gearing up for what they hoped would be an easy battle. They were uncharacteristically quiet, however, as if the heaviness in the air was contagious. Finally, Scout looked up from the bench where he sat tying his shoes.

"Hey, you guys hear that?"

The rest of them looked up and then heard it. It was the unmistakable sound of Sniper's camper van. Curiosity got the best of them and they warily ventured from respawn.

He was coming down the hill at breakneck speeds, kicking up a trail of dust before he slammed on his breaks and skidded to a halt before a group of bewildered mercs. Sniper had barely put the gear in 'park' before he threw himself out of the van.

"We've got a problem," he panted.

But as if on cue, an explosion rocked them to the core, sending shattered glass flying from the respawn room windows. The mercs flattened themselves on the ground as dust and debris whirled around them in a whirlwind of hot air. Seconds later, when the earth stopped shaking, they looked up in horror as the Mann Co. headquarters in the near distance disappeared behind a veil of fire and smoke.

"No," RED Sniper whispered. He had been too late.

"Wha' in the bloody hell is goin' on!?" BLU Demoman shouted over the din.

But before Sniper could explain, something in the distance caught his eye. It was like a congregation of ants marching down the hill in rows of single-filed soldiers and once the dust settled a bit, he went pale.

The robots.

"We have to run," was Sniper's only response. "Now. Get in the van."

"No way! We gotta stay and defend!" said the BLU Scout. "I ain't runnin' away like some punk coward!"

The others had already begun piling into Sniper's camper.

"You stupid whelp! That explosion was your headquarters bein' leveled. Respawn is down! We stay here and we die!"

Realization dawned on Scout quickly and his eyes, which were once full of a defiant spark, now dissolved to fear. He looked at the robot horde approaching from the hill and he felt a flood of shame. Scout was a runner, but that didn't mean he ran away.

Sniper seemed to know what was going on inside Scout's mind. "It ain't worth dyin' for," he said calmly.

Finally, Scout nodded and jumped into the camper. BLU Spy occupied the front passenger seat; Sniper hopped into the driver side.

"Seatbelts," was all he said under his breath before he slammed on the gas and the truck lurched forward, sending the mercs in the back tumbling to the floor.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Time stopped for Miss Pauling. For the next few seconds, she was locked in some sort of parallel universe where every grain of sand, every fleck of dust, and every molecule was suspended before her in the air. Sound had been reduced to a dull, muffled roar as if her head was placed under water and slowly merged into a ringing crescendo. She remained frozen in this world, gaping in disbelief as Mann Co. and everything she had worked for vanished in a fireball.

And then slowly, gradually, the harsh reality of what had happened crept back up on her until a blip in time placed her right back on her feet, surrounded by a full brigade of chaos.

"No," she whispered.

The mercs stood there paralyzed. Everything they had been through over the last twenty hours, the peril they faced and the information they gathered all in the hopes of saving Mann Co., had all been in vain. Now here they stood with the wreckage of their former company burning fiercely in the setting sun and the perpetrator right in front of them, smiling serenely.

Miss Pauling was amazed at how quickly her fear and disbelief turned into defiance. She closed her mouth and clenched her jaw and fists, glaring daggers at the old man who stood before her and had ruined everything she had worked for. To think that their lives were now completely in his hands made her stomach churn. She wished for nothing more than to have a bullet firing from her gun, aimed directly at Gray Mann's skull.

"What are you waiting for? Respawn is destroyed. You have us now. Just kill us and get it over with," she spat.

Gray raised his eyebrows. "Kill you? No, not you, Miss Pauling. That wasn't the deal."

She recoiled. "What deal?"

"Your Administrator's deal," he replied innocently, inspecting his fingernails. "If you assume she perished in that explosion, you'd be wrong. In fact, she was the one who told my robots where to plant the bomb. It was so easy. And I have you to thank for it."

Miss Pauling's mouth fell open again. "...What?"

"She came to me and offered me an opportunity I couldn't refuse. She willingly handed over your corporation and the respawn inside along with a very generous supply of Australium, and all I had to do was let you go and give her a job."

Soldier gasped. "TREASON!"

"You're lying," Miss Pauling said to Gray, ignoring Soldier's dramatics.

"You work for me now, Miss Pauling."

"No."

"You really have no choice." With a nod, a Minor League Scout raised its scattergun and took aim right at its human counterpart. "Because if you don't stop wasting my time and come with me right now, I'll be forced to kill your little friends right in front of you. And we don't want to get blood on that pretty little dress of yours, do we?"

Scout shifted uncomfortably but his bravery didn't falter. The drug in his system was starting to wear off. Either that or his adrenalin was trumping it.

The reality that their lives were finally, truly in danger was enough to bring Miss Pauling back from the brink of total, vengeful recklessness. Under any other circumstances, she would have been relieved to watch Scout take a bullet to the brain. It would mean he'd disappear to respawn and give her a few minutes of peace from his constant attempts at asking her out, at least. But now seeing a gun raised and poised at him, poised at any of them, made her tremble. Ever since Gray had arrived in Teufort with his robot army, Miss Pauling became more involved in directly interacting with the mercs. She had seen the inside of their respawn room more in the last four weeks than she had in four years. It suddenly dawned on her that maybe, just maybe, she was getting a little attached. If the Administrator knew…

The Administrator.

Gray had to be lying. There was no way her boss would sell them out like that, not after everything they had been through. Not like this.

"Miss Pauling," Gray warned, breaking her from her thoughts. "I'm going to count to three and then I order my robots to shoot."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up at the Spy, who was standing to her left.

"Go," he said calmly.

"I can't," she pleaded through her teeth.

Gray began his countdown. "One..."

"You have to. Don't make all we've worked for have been in vain," continued Spy. "He's going to kill us whether you go with him or not, so if one of us can walk away from this alive, I'd rather have it be you."

"Two..."

How could he accept his fate so calmly? Miss Pauling was about to argue when Scout suddenly brushed past her shoulder.

"Fuck this! You're goin' down!" he growled and charged.

"Scout, no!" Medic shouted.

The gunshot made Miss Pauling's ears ring and she flinched away from the blast. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Scout spread-eagled on his back, blood flowing from the wound in his chest, but still very alive. Medic began to run instinctively towards him but stopped in his tracks when another Minor League Scout raised its gun.

The robot that had shot Scout stepped forward and aimed the barrel of its weapon at Scout's head but didn't pull the trigger.

"Alright, stop!" Miss Pauling shouted. "Fine! I'll go with you!"

"No," Scout croaked, blood rising up in his throat.

But Miss Pauling ignored his pleas, walking past him and granting him only an apologetic stare. She hoped that if she complied, Gray would at least let the Medic tend to Scout's wounds, but when she finally stood before him, he gave no leeway.

Fear began to grip the mercs like a vice. The reality that their lives were all in peril crept up on them mercilessly, leaving them in a stunned silence. Their eyes darted from the Scout, who was writhing on the ground and bleeding to death, to Gray's cold glare.

"I don't know what you expect me to do for you," she said quietly. "But if I comply, you have to let my team go. Respawn is down. You've won the war. Their contracts with Mann Co. are now null and void and they represent no further threat to you."

Gray clicked his tongue and pursed his lips in thought. "See, I believe that's where you're wrong, Miss Pauling. These mercenaries represent any and every threat my corporation has ever known. Without their leader and precious administrative assistant, I can see that perhaps their morale will suffer, but nothing more. So I'm sorry you have to see this." He looked up and addressed the mercenaries. "It's been fun. But now I'm going to do something I've wanted to do for a long time."

"NO!" Miss Pauling screamed.

A robot clamped its hands around her biceps and whipped her off to the side, safely out of harm's way as the remaining Minor League Scouts opened fire. Time stopped again as she gaped in horror as the mercenaries collapsed under a barrage of bullets. Blood sprayed into the air and their pained cries were immediately vanquished by the explosion of gunfire. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the assault ended and the valley was silenced once again.

Miss Pauling could feel her legs begin to give out from under her. Scout was still alive on the ground, stunned and shaking. To finish off the massacre, a robot lowered its scattergun to his forehead and without a moment's hesitation, fired.

Her glasses had fallen off at some point and Miss Pauling was grateful. She didn't want the clarity of what just happened to be forever etched into her memory. Her eyes were wide and wild with fear and disbelief; her jaw almost to the ground.

"Take her inside," Gray said to his robots, whipping out a handkerchief to dab at a spot of blood on his lapel.

Miss Pauling went completely numb. She couldn't walk, she couldn't speak, and she couldn't even breathe. Mindlessly, she stumbled forward as the Minor League Scout pushed her with its hands still clamped around her arms. But as she was manhandled back into the building she had worked so hard to escape from, she noticed something.

Only five bodies were on the ground.

Spy.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

"You're going to kill us before Gray even gets a chance!" BLU Spy shouted as he clung to the dashboard in front of him for dear life.

But Sniper ignored him as he gripped his steering wheel so hard, he swore he could feel it bend underneath his fingers, and floored the gas pedal. Through a small window jutting through the cab of his truck, he could see the other mercs trying their best to stabilize themselves in the camper. But he couldn't worry about sparing them from bumps and bruises when they had a legion of homicidal robots behind them.

A large flash in his peripheral vision made him glance at his driver's side mirror. Without any resistance, the bots had made their way to the respawn area with the bomb and released it without delay. The explosion plumed behind his truck and within seconds, the shockwave caused him to fight for control.

"Merde!" hissed Spy.

Mannworks was now as good as gone.

The other mercs caught sight of the explosion from the back windows of the camper and had begun to gather round to gawk at the destruction. For the first time since they'd met, they felt genuine fear. Things were falling apart quicker than they could have ever imagined.

The sun set over Teufort but none of them took notice, for the sky remained lit up by the roaring fires that consumed their headquarters and battlefields. It penetrated the dark and loomed, ever present; a grim representation of their failure. They feared the worst for their RED counterparts and Miss Pauling, but there was nothing they could do but drive, hope, and watch the fires turned the night sky red.

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><p>nightelf37: Shit just got real. Everything has changed. Especially the "truck", which I renamed into a "camper van", as it is in canon. The rest will be coming soon. See ya on Third!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

nightelf37: Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle. Speaking of which, any italic A/Ns is from them, not me. My A/N's in this fic will have my name on it as if it was in a script.

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><p><em>AN: UGHHH. I had to rewrite this chapter THREE times because of continuity errors. I really struggled with this chapter, mainly with what I wanted Miss Pauling to do and how she would react. I hope I made the right choice. Thanks for the feedback so far. Also, thank you to TheRavenBlade for letting me bounce ideas off her and for her continued reviews. And inbred reindeer, your last review was so calm. It scared me. _

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><p>Miss Pauling remained silent as she was escorted into Gray Mann's Gravel Company. The horrors of what she had witnessed only seconds ago somehow distorted her sense of time, making her feel as if the walk from the carnage to the front entrance had been a journey of a thousand miles. The mental and physical exhaustion were slapping her in the face with every step.<p>

They were dead. Soldier, Medic, Demoman...Scout. Not even Scout, in all his irritating glory, deserved that. To see him reduced to total helplessness and put down like a dog was more than she cared to deal with.

She was numb; following a procession of Minor League Scouts as if she were on death row. Gray was behind her and she swore she could feel his eyes on her, his arrogant smirk burning a hole through her head.

Was she being led to her death as well? Why didn't Gray just shoot her outside with the rest of them? Did he actually think she was going to cooperate with anything he asked her to do? And what about the Administrator? It couldn't be true that she had sold them all out like that. To try and piece together this strange puzzle threatened to overload her mind and Miss Pauling suddenly felt a profound weakness taking hold of her legs. She wouldn't give Gray the satisfaction of seeing her crumble, though. She refused.

Miss Pauling was led to the same elevator she had escaped from only minutes before. She stepped on, Gray standing beside her and a robot on the other side. They didn't say anything as they entered and stood beside her, with Gray standing with his hands clasped behind him as if they were simply heading up to their cubicles on a Monday morning. The robot hit the top floor button.

_Ironic,_ Miss Pauling thought. She wondered if the idle Sniper bots would still be waiting. What had happened earlier made sense, according to what Gray had said. Perhaps the robots didn't kill her, Scout, and the Medic because they were receiving orders from their master not to do so. It didn't matter. They were dead now, anyway.

The elevator announced their arrival to the penthouse faster than Miss Pauling expected. Time must have sped up while she was aimlessly lost in thought.

"Come," Gray said and gently put his cold fingers on her bicep.

Miss Pauling found that she was still capable of reacting and shrugged her arm away from Gray's reach. She wasn't going to be herded like some sort of cattle. When the doors opened, she wasn't too surprised to see the Sniper bots from before, except now they were standing with their backs against the wall on either side of the hall. Their eyes no longer had the static look of vacancy but were glowing blue once again, though it seemed that they didn't mind any attention to the humans stepping out of the elevator. It was as if they were nothing more than knight statues.

She realized that the stronger robots with heavier artillery were the ones probably assigned to attack the headquarters and subsequent maps, which is why they never ran into any Steel Gauntlets or Rapid Fire Demomen while escaping the building. This enraged her even more, as if cooperating for one more second would mean those robots were firing one more bullet or grenade. And she wasn't there to stop them.

Neither was half the RED team.

Gray finished escorting Miss Pauling to the end of a short hallway where they stood in front of a large pair of walnut double doors. The wood was glossy and the handlebar in which Gray pushed was a shining gold. As soon as the doors opened, she found herself in a large office with a panoramic window overlooking Teufort. From where she stood, she could still see the lingering glow of the fires in the distance.

The office was adorned with the typical things you'd expect to find: intricate chairs, a large desk, old-fashioned paintings, and tacky rugs. A wall to her right held a large shelf with an impressive volume of books. It was really an ordinary room for a man who boasted his own greatness. In fact, the only thing that looked out of place was Miss Pauling.

And the Administrator.

"Ah, Helen," Gray said, clasping his hands together. "Glad you didn't have any troubles with the teleporter."

Miss Pauling's mouth fell open slightly when Gray began to speak. She couldn't peel her eyes off of the Administrator standing in front of the panoramic window; hands behind her back as if being present in their enemy's office was the most natural thing in the world.

Gray hadn't lied. The Administrator really was on his side now. Or at least, that's what it looked like and the very thought of it made Miss Pauling's blood begin to boil. To think that her own boss would give up all of their hard work on behalf of the mercenaries' lives was deplorable to her. But then again, she remembered sparing no thought or remorse when she killed the director so many years ago. Why was she suddenly so conflicted?

"Mr. Mann, I respectfully request a private moment with my assistant. I feel it would be beneficial to get her acclimated," the Administrator said.

Miss Pauling gave her a look of absolute disbelief and disgust. Did she really think she could explain herself in just a few moments and have her just be fine with everything?

Gray hesitated and before he could speak, the Administrator took a deep breath and continued. "If our loyalty is in question, I don't blame you. But we're both unarmed and 150 feet up. We're not going to tie bedsheets together and climb down the side of the building, if that's what you're worried about."

Her sarcasm caught him off guard and for a second, Miss Pauling was grateful to see someone put Gray in his place. He blinked and then shuddered slightly as if coming back to reality from a lengthy daydream.

"Of course not," he replied gently and smiled. "You're right. Take all the time you need."

"Thank you. I'll have the first shipment of Australium on your desk in 24 hours."

This seemed to please Gray and ease his suspicions. "Excellent. Well, then you two have your discussion. I'll just check on how my Mecha Engineer is doing on the front lines. Six mercenaries down, twelve to go!"

He said it so cheerfully that Miss Pauling clenched her fists and felt an unknown force take control of her body. But before she could fling herself at him in a fit of rage, Gray gave a polite nod and headed for the door.

"Oh, there are two robot guards out in the hall, should you need anything," Gray said, although it seemed more like a passive warning.

The Administrator only nodded. Finally, Gray exited the room. The double doors closed slowly behind him and neither the Administrator nor Miss Pauling moved until the sound of the door jam clicking into place was heard. Then Miss Pauling exploded.

"What the hell is going on!?"

"Keep your voice down," the Administrator ordered.

Despite her emotional outburst, Miss Pauling managed to reduce her voice to an excited whisper. She stomped over to where the Administrator was standing. "Did you really sell the mercs out for this?!" Miss Pauling couldn't believe what was coming out of her own mouth but she continued. "Those guys have been fighting for your company for years and this is the way we thank them? By setting them up for slaughter?! Why are you giving up the company now after everything we've all been through!?"

"It's simple business, Miss Pauling. We've killed many people in cold blood for a lot less than this."

"But they weren't our own men. And why was I spared?"

"Because that was the deal. I hand over respawn, supply Gray with an absurd amount of Australium, and step down from Mann Co. In exchange, you and I are to be integrated into the new Mann Co. Alive."

Miss Pauling shook her head in shock. "What makes you think I'd be okay with accepting this position?"

"Because our lives depend on it," the Administrator said, lowering her voice. "Now if you're finished with your tantrum..."

Her words sent Miss Pauling into a stunned stupor. Finally, something clicked and she slowly deflated. The Administrator took her silence as a cue to go on.

"Good," she said calmly. "First, let me begin by saying that I don't appreciate finger-pointing, Miss Pauling. It's beneath you. In this case, however, I can see you have a valid reason to be less than thrilled with the situation. But I request a little bit more tact from you in the future."

"Ma'am, our corporation is under attack and I just watched six of our mercs get gunned down a few minutes ago. I'm not sure how you expect me to be tactful about this."

"The same way you've always been since the day I hired you. The death of the mercenaries is unfortunate but vital. We need to maintain the illusion that Gray is winning the war."

Miss Pauling recoiled slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm actually a little offended that you think so poorly of my integrity, Miss Pauling," said the Administrator, turning her back and gazing out the window again. The fires were still burning in the mountain. "You're a liability. Gray knows this. If you don't cooperate with me, then I can't guarantee your safety."

"I don't need you to protect me, Helen."

"Yes, you do. Because there is a reason I hired you, Miss Pauling. Despite your sickening attachment to those mercs, I still consider you an intelligent woman. I also consider you a fairly skilled shot. These are two combinations that, unfortunately, the mercenaries don't possess." She lowered her voice and took a step closer to Miss Pauling. "And if we're going to put Mann Co. back in business and Gray six feet under, I am going to need you alive."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The RED Sniper knew he should have filled up the tank when he had the chance. He had only gotten his camper van a few miles into the mountains before it sputtered to a dead crawl somewhere past the nearby Colorado border. Though it put a decent distance between the mercs and the robots, he knew borders meant nothing in the long run. He'd have to find gas soon, but for now, the mercs earned a bit of rest.

They had stopped at what looked like an old coal mine area. Tracks and carts were reclaimed by nature and were overgrown with snow-covered pines and weeds. December up in the mountains was unforgiving, so the mercs remained piled up inside Sniper's camper. They shivered despite the heat blasting from the vents and stared wearily at the floor.

"So, this is it, then? We've been sold out?" BLU Scout asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, it looks that way," the RED Sniper grumbled.

He spared no time in telling the mercs about what he heard. How the Administrator traded their lives in for money and security; about how she practically handed respawn over on a silver platter. This troubling knowledge was met with skepticism at first, but then everything started to make sense. Not only that, but it opened up a whole plethora of worrisome questions that the mercs were still burning to answer. Such as: where were the Engineers? None of them had heard from them since before the attack. Did they catch wind of the plan and run away? It didn't really seem like them to be so callous. So then, were they killed? Unfortunately, that seemed more logical.

And what of the other RED team members? Were Sniper and Pyro the last standing members? According to Sniper, Miss Pauling should have been spared, at least. She would be the only one who would know what ultimately happened to the other mercs. But if things were as bad as Sniper said they were, they knew an audience with their beloved administrative assistant was next to impossible.

Deep down, the mercs knew that they could simply run. They could leave Teufort behind and never look back. But what kind of men would they be if they returned to their relatives at a time like this? And would Gray continue to hunt them down, even after they left Mann Co. for good? Or would he trace them back to their families? It was a risk none of them were really willing to take.

So many unanswered questions, but for the time being, the mercs only wanted a bit of sleep. Scout, of course, complained of hunger until Sniper found a stash of beef jerky and left it on a table for the mercs to share, though it was meager at best.

The RED Sniper offered to take first watch and no one objected. They knew they weren't out of the woods just yet and the last thing they needed was for some robots to come attack them in their sleep. They had brought a small arsenal with them, but it was best not to get caught with one's pants around the ankles. So leaving the mercs in the comfort of the camper, Sniper walked out into the night. He grumbled as the snow penetrated his boots and chilled his feet with every step.

The abandoned coal mine entrance nearby offered a makeshift shelter and it was there that Sniper began to build a fire. All of his survival skills from the bush came back to him in a heartbeat, and before long he was sitting somewhat comfortably in front of crackling warmth. The sealed off mine was at his back and allowed him to stay sheltered and also maintain a viable perimeter. Should any robots attack, at least he wouldn't have to worry about them sneaking up from behind. It wasn't long before the muffled conversations inside the camper died down and Sniper was left alone with a fire and relative silence while the world slept.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before the camper door creaked open and the BLU Spy stepped down into the snow. He walked over to the mouth of the mine, reaching into his lapel to bring out his disguise kit and flipped it open, extending it towards Sniper. Despite their violent rivalry, Sniper graciously accepted a cigarette.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" he grumbled.

"Forgive me. I find your camper a bit...crude and confining," replied the Spy, lighting up the Sniper's cigarette before igniting his own.

"Sorry, it ain't the Ritz."

For the next several minutes, Spy and Sniper just enjoyed the quiet. The glow of the fire made their shadows dance against the walls of the mine. They still shivered, but the cigarettes were a welcome distraction; the nicotine flooding their veins and soothing their nerves. Sniper glanced over at the Spy and gave an amused puff of air from his nose. Never in a million years did he think he'd be sitting around a campfire with him.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Spy spoke up. "We cannot stay here, Sniper."

Sniper sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I'll see if I can hike it over to the next town in the mornin' and get some petrol for the camper."

"And then what? Return to our families? Go our separate ways as if none of this ever happened?"

"You got a problem with that?"

"Gray wants us dead. If he had the intent of simply driving us off, he could have done that. What happens when we return to our homes and bring the war with us? Are you really willing to risk the lives of your kin?"

Sniper couldn't deny the fact that the thought had crossed his mind before. He really saw no incentive to stay fighting for Mann Co. He didn't even have a boss anymore. Under normal circumstances, he would have been long gone, but the looming threat of robot war was troubling him enough to want to keep it away from home. Could Gray even find his way to Australia? Sniper didn't know and wasn't willing to find out. If there was one thing he was more protective over than his bank account, it was his folks.

No, Sniper knew better. Reluctantly, he accepted the fact that his fellow mercs and he couldn't return home until this mess was cleaned up. If the others wanted to leave, they would have done it by now. Perhaps things would change in the morning, however, once they were rested and had some time to think. With respawn being down, the stakes were raised higher than any of them had ever expected.

"So, whaddya suggest we do? Hop on top'a the camper and shoot anythin' that comes up the mountain? Live here like hermits? Or just skip from town to town until Gray gets bored?" Sniper asked sarcastically.

"We are assassins, Sniper," Spy answered with just as much snark. "I suggest we do our jobs."

"Even if it kills us? Because y'know it probably will."

Spy finished off his cigarette and flicked it into the fire. "We all have to die some day."

Sniper frowned and began poking the fire with a stick. Since when did Spy become so philosophical? And how could he so readily accept impending death? Most of the mercs were only in their 30's and 40's; hardly an age worthy to be deemed ripe. Hell, Scout was only a whelp. They couldn't possibly expect him to throw his life away over this.

Then again, he began throwing his life away the minute he came to Teufort to kill people over gravel, so...

"Would you like me to relieve you of your duties?" Spy offered.

Sniper hugged his arms to his chest and hunched over the fire. "Nah. I wouldn't sleep a wink, anyway."

"Suit yourself."

Spy turned his back on the fire and began to walk away from the coal mine; his leather shoes crunching in the snow, when he suddenly stopped. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the trees but only saw darkness and the flickering shadows of the branches upon the ground.

Sniper noticed Spy tensing. "What is it?"

"Quiet," Spy ordered and continued watching; listening. His senses were on high alert and he felt a buzzing in his nerves. He could have sworn he heard something amongst the pines.

Sniper furrowed his brow. He couldn't see or hear anything, save for the crackling fire. "It's probably just an animal, mate."

But then a twig snapped. Before Sniper could react, Spy had already whipped out his Ambassador and was aiming it in the direction of the disturbance. There was the sound of crunching snow and rustling bushes to their left. Sniper was by his side in an instant and they both stood staring warily into the dark of the forest. Spy pulled back the hammer and prepared to fire when suddenly, a figure stumbled into the faint firelight.

The two could only gape in disbelief as the RED Spy collapsed at their feet.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Miss Pauling wanted nothing more than for that night to be over. She wanted a long, hot bath, a gun catalogue, and a bottle of bourbon. She wanted the last 24 hours to melt away or to wake up, warm in her bed with it nothing more than a lingering nightmare.

A lot was on her mind, and rightfully so. The Administrator left her with more questions than answers and her cryptic responses made Miss Pauling's blood boil. She was no mouse, and the Administrator knew that, but she was always able to keep her cool in dire situations. Not tonight. Everybody had a breaking point. But just before she could unleash Hell, they were interrupted by Gray.

The Administrator's glare urged Miss Pauling to postpone continuing their chat until a more suitable time. Fortunately, Miss Pauling's physical breaking point had been reached, and she found herself too exhausted and flabbergasted to argue any further.

She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far away from that place as possible. She wanted to find the mercs and storm Gray's Gravel Company and bring that rotting, old man to his knees. She wanted a Mann Co. grenade shoved into his yellowed teeth. If she hadn't been so tired, she would have been amazed at her own vindictiveness. Maybe the Administrator was right. Maybe she had been spending too much time around the mercs; that their recklessness and haste had worn off on her.

Still, that would have to be determined later. The Administrator left her with a lot to ponder. Was there really a bigger plan in action? If so, why wouldn't the Administrator just tell her? Miss Pauling wasn't a terrible actress; she could have played along if it meant the success of a higher scheme. It wouldn't be the first time she deceived someone to their death.

Instead, she found herself descending in the elevator with two robot escorts. To have them stand behind her as foot soldiers rather than pumping her full of lead was unsettling, to say the least. She had offered to clear the bodies off the grounds; a task that surprised even Gray. In reality, she remembered that the Spy seemed to have escaped the massacre, so her request wasn't so much a method of mourning as it was an excuse to just get out of the building. Maybe he was still out there...

The elevator announced her arrival to the main floor and Miss Pauling numbly stepped off into the hall. Shamefully, she already knew the way to the main entrance and her feet carried her there on no cognitive accord of their own. The Sniper bots escorting her clanked loudly behind her with every step.

He had no reason to be, but if Spy was still alive and hiding amidst the grounds, Miss Pauling wanted nothing more than to be alone when she found him. If the robots found out that a mercenary had possibly made it out alive from their attack, all hell would break loose. Wherever he was, she had to buy him enough time to find the others; to warn them.

The robots escorting her weren't exactly there for company. Still, they seemed fairly vacant and passive; maybe she could evade them with the right approach. If she was a newly fledged employee of Gray Mann's Gravel Company, then that meant the robots were her subordinates and she planned to play that card every chance she got...if it worked.

"I'll be right outside," she said suddenly, stopping just short of the main doors. "You will stay here. If I try to run, you have permission to shoot."

She didn't turn around to see if her order had registered but she could see the robots' reflection in the glass door in front of her. The Sniper bots' blue, glowing eyes took on a scrambled haze as they absorbed what they had just been told. And miraculously, it seemed to work. They took a step back.

Miss Pauling relaxed slightly. When she stepped out of the building, the cold, dry air hit her like a tidal wave but she did not falter. Instead, she drank it in as if it was the first glass of water she'd had in months. The wind was freedom. The cold was life. But it wasn't enough to wash away the ever-present sense of dread that consumed her. She was terrified. She couldn't possibly explain why. She worked for a company that paid men to kill one another, while she herself also had her fair share of blood on her hands. Had she really become so emotionally invested; something she swore she'd never do? She had watched people die violently more times than she could count...

_Except this time, they were my responsibility._

So maybe that's what she felt: a heavy sense of failure. She would have to figure it out another time. For the moment, she just wanted to know if Spy made it out alive or not. But when her eyes finally adjusted to the dark and she scanned the area where she expected to see five bullet-riddled bodies, she saw nothing. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell slack. There was no evidence that a massacre had occurred there at all, not even a drop of blood soaked into the cracked earth. She instantly forgot about the Spy's welfare.

Soldier, Demoman, Medic, Heavy, and Scout were all gone.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The camper door slammed open and all at once, the snoozing mercs were scrambling to their feet. BLU Spy hopped in and flipped on a light.

"Move!" he spat at the Scout, who had been sprawled out on a cushioned bench.

Scout didn't think twice. He jumped up so fast he nearly fell onto the Heavy, who was slowly standing up from his resting place on the floor. The sudden interruption left them little time to decipher what was happening but then the RED Sniper came through the door, supporting a lone figure.

RED Pyro exclaimed something beneath his mask. It was his team's Spy, except he looked a little worse for wear.

"Whoa, where'd he come from? What the hell happened?" Scout asked.

All the mercs were upon their feet now and the BLU Medic pressed past their shoulders, stopping behind the Sniper as he lowered the RED Spy down onto the vacant bench. The mercenary looked like he had been through a washing machine full of bricks and he clutched the center of his abdomen; blood seeping out between his fingers and staining his suit with a dark splotch of crimson.

"Get out of zhe way," Medic insisted and the crowding mercs stepped back. He placed his hand on the Spy's arm and eased it away from his stomach. "Let me see."

Gently, the Spy complied and allowed the doctor to unbutton his suit jacket, vest, and undershirt. Medic hissed when he saw the wound. The shotgun blast had left a baseball-sized hole through the Spy's gut; tissue and blood seeping out grotesquely. It was a wonder the man was even still alive, though he certainly looked like he was struggling to stay that way. Spy did his best to seem unfazed by his injury but his body didn't lie. His skin was ashen and moist with sweat and Medic could see the man's heart jackhammer away beneath his sternum.

"Zhis is bad. Sniper, do you have any med kits?"

The Sniper was, thankfully, already a few steps ahead of the Medic and found a small stash of health kits in a storage bin next to the mini fridge. He handed it over on cue.

"Can't you just use your medigun?" Scout asked.

"Nein, it von't work on zhe opposite team," Medic answered as he opened the medicine kit up.

Inside, there was a roll of gauze, a syringe, and a bottle of red medicine. Medic frowned as the Spy began to cough; blood staining his clenched teeth. His breathing was becoming more labored and he let his head fall back onto the bench, closing his eyes and letting the increasing sleepiness wash over him.

"Stay avake, Herr Spy," Medic said calmly, almost as if it were a threat. He began drawing the medicine from the vial into the needle.

Spy opened his eyes and glared at the ceiling. Once the syringe was full, Medic ejected a small amount from the tip and expelled the bubbles with a few flicks of his finger before plunging it unceremoniously into the Spy's neck.

The Spy didn't even flinch when the doctor compressed the plunger and sent the medicine into his jugular. He did, however, squirm uncomfortably as his body began to respond to being rapidly healed. Within seconds, the skin around his bullet wound began to hiss and sizzle, closing in on itself. It took only a half minute for it to completely heal over, leaving nothing but a bruised splotch upon his torso.

"Hmm, Sniper, do you have anozher kit?" Medic asked.

"No," Spy interrupted, finally being able to speak. "Don't waste the med packs. We might need them later."

"Zhere might still be internal bleeding."

"I will live. Thank you."

Heavy extended his massive hand and Spy graciously took it, using it to pull himself into a seated position on the bench. He winced as his abdomen ached; the medicine not being enough to fully restore him, but it was better than the near-corpse he was five minutes ago. With a deep sigh, Spy let his head hang and closed his eyes, collecting himself. A blanket was draped over his shoulders and he clutched it to his chest, finally finding the strength to shiver.

The mercs shifted awkwardly. They were left baffled at the sudden turn of events that night, but knew Spy was probably on the verge of collapse. They wanted answers, but weren't sure when it would be appropriate to ask for them. Luckily, Soldier's lack of tact broke the spell.

"Are you ready to be debriefed, Private?" he asked.

Scout didn't understand the lingo. "Debriefed? Christ, man, what the hell d'ya want with the guy's underwear? What a freak."

Soldier ignored him and continued to focus on the Spy. "Report, Private!"

Spy lifted his head, clearing his throat and straightening his tie. It didn't matter that the rest of him looked like it had been through a cyclone.

"The Administrator," he said quietly.

"We know, mate. She sold us out," Sniper grumbled.

Spy seemed to be surprised that the other mercs already knew about the betrayal. "How did you find out?"

"I eavesdropped on that hag makin' a deal with Gray. She jumped ship and left us rats t'drown. What happened t'you, then? Did you find the others?"

Spy blanched again, but it wasn't from his injury. He swallowed hard; his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"...I did. We were ambushed outside of the building. The others, they...they didn't make it."

His words were like a million volts of electricity shocking the mercs in the heart. They tensed and exchanged worried looks, falling silent as the reality of the situation sank in.

"So...they're dead? Like, dead dead?" Scout asked meekly.

"Yes, Scout."

The BLU Spy, noticing the tension rising, reached into his lapel and unsheathed his disguise kit, flipping it open and holding it out to his RED doppelganger. They made eye contact briefly before the RED Spy slipped one of the proffered cigarettes from the kit and graciously stuck it between his lips. Meanwhile, Scout sat down in one of the dinette chairs opposite the bench and buried his forehead in his bandaged hands.

"How'd you find us?" the BLU Sniper asked.

Spy took a moment to light up his cigarette and inhale deeply, letting the sweet smoke soak into his lungs. Finally, he exhaled slowly and nodded at the RED Sniper.

"He drives like a lunatic. I was heading for Coal Town when I saw the tire tracks along the road."

"Good thing yeh didn' end up there, lad," Demoman said.

"Coal Town is kaput," Medic clarified. "Vell, ve are assuming it is."

"You were not able to defend?" Spy asked.

"Nah, we defended just fine," RED Sniper said. "But the bots have access to a teleporter system, now. By the time we were done savin' Coal Town, they had already infiltrated Decoy. We only just figured it out in time to beat them to Mannworks, but then everything went to Hell. Respawn blew and now here we are."

RED Spy cleared his throat. "That is unfortunate."

There was a moment of pause inside the camper as the mercs reabsorbed the situation again. Both Spies had almost finished their cigarettes in record time.

"Is Miss Pauling alive?" Heavy asked.

Spy paused; his shoulders sinking even further. "She is with Gray. I am unaware of his plans for her, but there is no reason to believe she is not still alive."

Scout finally pulled his hands away from his head. "Why would she go with that rat bastard? I was really startin' to like her, too."

"She didn't have a choice, Scout. Besides, would you rather have her risk her life to be in this camper?" He finished his cigarette and leaned over to snuff out the butt in the ashtray centered on the dinette table. "Anyway, I found it useless to try and locate your whereabouts within the map system. Respawn was down and if, by chance, you hadn't realized it yet, I assumed I would have only found your corpses amongst the rubble. Following the tire tracks was the only wise course of action. Were you intoxicated, by the way? It was like tracing a six mile corkscrew."

"I was in a hurry, alright?!" RED Sniper snapped.

"Well, I suggest we continue hurrying," Spy said with a sigh. "Gray plans on assassinating every one of us and if the robots now have teleportation technology, it won't be long before the find us up here. By the way, where are the Engineers?"

It suddenly struck him that both Engineers were missing from the camper and he glared in concern at his fellow mercs. Had they been killed?

"No one knows," Demoman answered. "Las' time anyone saw them was right after yeh told us abou' Gray."

Things were worse than Spy imagined. Half of his team were dead, Mann Co. was destroyed, and now they were hiding out like hermits in a camper up the mountain and no one knew whether or not the Engineers were even alive, let alone their whereabouts.

"Merde," he whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his elbows on his knees. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"We'll regroup and figure things out in the mornin'," said Sniper. "For now, everyone needs t'get a bit'a rest. We're all gonna have to be sharp if we're gonna stay alive."

None of the mercs opposed, but they also knew none of them would get a wink of sleep. The most they could manage was to simply sink back into their spots within the camper, whether it was simply sitting on the floor or at the dinette table. The Scout however, stood up quickly and violently pushed the camper door open.

"Where are you going?" the RED Spy asked, a hint of anger laced in his voice.

"I'm goin' out for a run. I gotta think. I can't mope in this stuffy ol' box," Scout answered.

Spy knew there was nothing he could do or say to dissuade the Scout but that didn't stop him from letting him know how stupid it was to wander around the woods at night with killer robots on their trail. Scout only waved him off dismissively and grumbled on his way out the camper. When the door snapped shut behind him on its spring hinge, he exhaled loudly, closed his eyes, and tipped his head back.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Things sucked big time. And everything was happening too fast for him to comprehend. He really wished he could see his mom. She always knew what to say to make him feel better. Or, at the very least, she'd make him a wicked awesome grilled cheese sandwich.

As if on cue, Scout's stomach rumbled, but he forced himself to ignore it. It was late, cold, and dark and he knew having a jog given the current situation was probably not the best idea, but it was how he coped. Everyone dealt with stress in their own way; his just happened to be running.

Cracking his neck from side to side, Scout heaved with a deep sigh and began to let his feet carry him forward. But shortly after he left camp, he noticed something strange about his path. Birds began to sing the praises of dawn and though the sun was still below the horizon, enough light made it topside to let Scout's eyes adjust fairly quickly to his surroundings. He could see the sparkling snow that coated the road before him and he could see the tire tracks from Sniper's camper still freshly embedded in it. But now he noticed something else had left tracks.

Scout stopped running and approached the strange imprints. At first he assumed that the tracks belonged to the Spy but some sort of curious intuition made him crouch down and take a closer look. And then, a horrible realization dawned on him. The tracks didn't belong to a human.

Suddenly, the dark spaces between the trees lit up with the stare of a hundred glowing, blue eyes.

"Oh, shit."

* * *

><p>nightelf37: Personally, I think that "medigun unable to heal the other team" issue could've been easily resolved with a "use Disguise kit to turn into the other team" solution. Seriously, that's possible in-game. See ya on Third.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

nightelf37: Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle.

* * *

><p>The BLU Scout ran faster than he thought he ever had in his life. His feet thundered against the ground like pistons and his chest burned with every breath of icy air he sucked in. He could hear the trees rustling behind him as the robots emerged from the foliage.<p>

The whistle of a rocket being launched from a Crit Soldier was deafening. Instinctively, Scout ducked as he ran and the missile hit a nearby tree, sending it cracking and splintering to the ground in a mighty burst of fire. He avoided it with ease but not before several more shots fired in its wake.

Meanwhile, at the camper, the mercs were shaken from their repose and exchanged wild looks.

"What was noise?" BLU Heavy asked.

Immediately, they all piled out of the camper door, grabbing their weapons and holding them at the ready. For once, they found themselves trembling at the notion of danger. Their mortality was not something they were used to prioritizing.

Another thunderous boom was heard and soon, the trees lit up with the flash of bombs below. It was muffled at first, but then they saw something approach quickly from down the hill. At once, they raised their weapons and took aim but as the figure approached, they realized it was Scout. He was running at full speed, his breath chugging out into the air like a steam engine, and a look of terror evident even in the bare dawn light.

And then, behind him, was an army of blue eyes.

"THE BRITISH ARE COMING!" BLU Soldier shouted and all Hell broke loose.

The bots swarmed the camp, sending the mercenaries scattering in every direction. All at once, grenades and rockets fired down upon the mountain like rain. Scout was knocked off his feet and somersaulted through the air, hitting a tree and getting the wind knocked out of him. He achingly forced himself to his feet and continued to run, taking shelter behind the camper with the BLU Sniper and RED Spy.

"How many are there?!" Sniper shouted over the explosive din.

"How the fuck should I know?!" Scout answered. His scattergun and bat were inside the camper; so close yet so far. "Yo, cover me!"

"What?! Scout, no!" Spy exclaimed but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Scout rolled on the ground, evading a series of grenades that blew up a little too close for comfort. He could feel the heat sting his face. Behind him, Sniper and Spy spat out a slew of curses as they peeked out from behind the camper to fire blindly at whatever robots they could. Grenades and rockets whizzed by their hands and sent dirt, pine needles, and snow showering down upon them. Spy and Sniper managed to take out a few Crit Soldiers as Scout quickly ducked into the camper. He looked around frantically for his scattergun before finding it up against the wall next to the dinette table.

"Yes!" he whispered and leaped for it when the camper violently lurched.

Scout cursed and ducked under the dinette table, shielding his head as debris rained down around him. When he finally opened his eyes, he coughed through the dust and saw a gaping hole in front of him; the side of the camper having been blown off by a series of grenades. The perpetrator became visible then, and Scout mustered up his bravery. In an instant, he switched off his fear and became an animalistic assassin again, raising his scattergun and firing off two shots into the smoke. The robot gave a warbled cry and collapsed in a heap of scrap metal.

Scout dashed out of the gap and looked around frantically for his teammates. They were scattered and taking shelter behind the trees, popping out to fire their guns at whatever they could hit. Scout didn't stay exposed for long. Another missile landed by his feet and he double jumped to safety, though the explosion that followed in his wake hit his back like a wrecking ball.

Meanwhile, the Sniper and Spy had no choice but to abandon their post behind the camper. The robots were blowing it to pieces anyway. The BLU Spy was faring just as badly. He had taken the full brunt of a grenade and he was panting in pain as he sat on the ground behind a boulder. His gun remained raised and ready to fire, but finding a robot to focus on shooting was proving difficult.

"Merde," he whispered. Suddenly, the RED Pyro was by his side and under normal circumstances, it was the last person he wanted to see. In that instance, however, he saw it as a godsend.

The Pyro muttered something loudly that Spy thought sounded a lot like, "Are you okay!?" And so he nodded and tried to clear his parched throat. A Heavyweight Champ was suddenly upon them and Pyro stood up in a flash, firing two shots from his shotgun and sending the robot reeling back dead into a heap. But the merc cried out and hit the ground when a bullet from a Minor League Scout hit him in the arm. Spy frowned when he saw his comrade fall and stood up to fire his revolver at the oncoming assault. He managed to take down three Minor League Scouts before the retaliation of rockets and bullets forced him to duck down behind the boulder again.

"Pyro?"

"Mmmokay," Pyro muttered in response.

"We have to move," Spy said and was answered with a nod.

Pyro clasped a gloved hand over the bleeding wound in his arm and hunched over, followed Spy deeper into the trees. Not too far away, the Demoman was holding his own fort by launching a defensive line of sticky bombs. He laughed with insane glee as he detonated them amidst a sea of oncoming robots before replanting some more. But soon, his sticky bomb launcher ran out of ammo, and when the last bomb exploded, his smile was wiped clean from his face. More robots kept advancing.

"Ah, cripe!" he cried.

He was just about to retreat when the Soldier ran by him screaming like a banshee, pounding his helmet with the blade of his shovel.

"FOR NARNIA!"

The madman charged into a barrage of Crit Soldiers and Demoman gasped in terror. "Soldier, no!"

But the crazed mercenary didn't hear him. He used his shovel to decapitate several of his robotic counterparts without so much as earning a scratch before his luck ran out. A Heavyweight Champ snuck up on him and as soon as Soldier turned around to shove the blade of his beloved Market Gardener into the bot's chest, he was greeted with a swift punch to the face. Instantly, he fell.

"SOLDIER!" Demoman cried out. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE 'IM ALIVE, YEH BASTARDS!"

And with that, he charged and slid on his legs to reach his fallen friend. The horde of bots was on him like vultures but Demoman felt no fear. He wasn't going to leave his pal to the dogs, and if this was how he was going to die, so be it. Demo ripped a grenade from Soldier's lapel and without a moment's hesitation, pulled the pin and threw it into the oncoming swarm. Immediately, he shielded Soldier with his own body and braced for impact. The grenade bounced and came to a rest at the feet of several Crit Soldiers and then-

_BOOM!_

RS N—RS N—RS N—RS N—RS N

Heavy and Medic were holding down their own fort behind a cluster of pine trees when they heard the explosion, but paid it no heed. Heavy was belting out animalistic battle cries as he heaved his minigun up and fired blindly into the robot army, laughing maniacally when he saw them crumple en masse. The Medic however wasn't enjoying himself quite as much as he stayed down on one knee and kept his medigun trained on his teammate. He flinched through the flying snow and pine needles, cursing under his breath in German. A snap of a branch behind him made him stand up and spin around swiftly, coming face to face with a Heavyweight Champ.

"Heavy! Look out—" Medic cried out but before he could dodge out of the way, the robot viciously planted its fist in the doctor's stomach.

Heavy turned around in time to see the Medic fall to his knees, clutching his gut in agony. His first instinct was to tend worriedly to the doctor, but then the immediate thirst for retaliation took hold of him. Heavy's face contorted in rage as he bared his teeth and dropped his minigun.

"No one...NO ONE...hurts doctor!" he screamed and decapitated the robot with his bare hands.

In an instant, more robots were upon them and the horrible realization that they were surrounded and severely outnumbered dawned on them. Medic stared in horror as another Heavyweight Champ stomped forward and slammed its foot down upon his medigun, snapping the nozzle in two. Immediately, he pulled himself to his feet, trying to calm his diaphragm so that he could breathe but the blow to his abdomen had been severe. He coughed involuntarily and ignored the blood that splattered against his lips.

"Heavy, ve must run!"

Despite Heavy's best efforts, he was becoming quickly overwhelmed. Without acknowledging the Medic's suggestion, he began to charge forward and cleared a path through a line of Heavyweight Champs, bulldozing them over with his massive shoulder. It wasn't enough to incapacitate them, but it cleared a path long enough for the Medic and him to run to higher ground.

By some coincidence, the mercenaries had found themselves being individually herded by the robots. They fired their weapons and dodged behind trees but were each overpowered in no time at all. As Heavy ran with Medic struggling to keep up behind him, they came upon Scout, who was running towards them, looking absolutely mortified.

"Go back, go back!" he shouted, cradling his left arm and limping profusely.

The Demobots behind him were firing their grenade launchers without abandon and dozens of plumes of fire erupted from the ground behind him, causing him to stumble with every blast. The two mercs shared a silent but urgent understanding; that there was nowhere to go but farther up the mountain.

"Scout, move!" Heavy bellowed and the three mercs abruptly changed direction. Within seconds they came upon the BLU Pyro, who was standing guard over an unconscious BLU Demoman and Soldier, air blasting a herd of Minor League Scouts.

"Medic!" the BLU Spy called, suddenly running up on them and supporting a weakened RED Pyro.

"I can't!" the Medic exclaimed. "My gun is broken!"

The group was about to keep ascending the mountain when, all of a sudden, the RED and BLU Sniper came running down the hill; the RED Spy behind them, looking pallid. Every once in a while, he would turn and shoot over his shoulder until the chamber of his Ambassador emptied out and the Minor League Scouts behind him were able to regroup and return fire. Luckily for the mercs, all of the robots were horrible shots, but their sheer numbers were proving effective as bullets whizzed by the mercs' heads a little too close for comfort every passing second.

They were totally surrounded; the Spy and Snipers fleeing down the mountain until they met with the other mercs standing guard around the fallen Demo and Soldier. It wasn't long before they stood in a protective circle, backs to one another as they fired what was left of their ammo into the enveloping robots until they had nothing left. Their chests were heaving and their bodies beaten yet in the face of what was now certain death, they did not show fear.

The mountain went quiet, then, as the robots came to a collective understanding that they had the mercenaries cornered. The Heavyweight Champs stepped back, allowing the Demobots, Crit Soldiers, and Minor League Scouts to close in on their prey. The mercs exchanged looks; apologetic, hopeless stares as they knew that they had reached the end. If their ears hadn't been ringing from the blasts, they would have heard a growing humming sound coming from down the mountain...

The robots were unable to comprehend the noise and so ignored it as they raised their weapons and took aim. But then the humming got louder...and closer, until the mercs could finally hear it and looked up in amazement. Only a second before the robots opened fire, there was the unmistakable 'beep beep' of a sentry gun and crashing through the trees charged a gigantic machine on four wheels. It bulldozed through the foliage, tackling saplings and sending a hurricane of pine needles pouring down upon the mercs. And riding on top of it was the BLU Engineer.

Once again, the mountain became alive with the thunderous booms of gunfire and explosives. The mercs could only stare in disbelief. The sentry gun was huge, five times bigger than any Level 3 the Engineers had ever constructed, and it was mobile. The BLU Engineer saddled it like a horse as it swiveled around at lightning speed and pumped the robots full of lead. The bots did their best to fire back, but the mobile turret was quick and ruthless.

The RED Engineer whooped and hollered in delight as he emerged from the trees a moment later, blasting his shotgun into an unsuspecting group of Minor League Scouts. They circled the mass of robots, disorienting them and firing mercilessly. Rockets whistled from the sentry and sent cyborg parts and money flying through the trees. The mercs could only remain huddled and flabbergasted.

And then, the eruption of gunfire, rockets, and tinny screams ended. The mountain was silent again and littered with the corpses of hundreds of smoking robot parts. A Minor League Scout pitifully raised its hand and the BLU Engineer's sentry silenced it with a 'beep beep!' and two shots. The battle was over.

For the longest time, the mercs couldn't say a word. The two Engineers chuckled and congratulated each other exuberantly before the mobile sentry zoomed over to where their fellow teammates stood frozen and gaping up at them.

"Looks like we got here just in time," BLU Engineer said. Dumbfounded stares were his response.

It was Demoman who broke the silence as he abruptly came to. "Huh!? Wha?" he stammered, lifting his head in a daze. "I'll take yeh all on!" But when his eyes fell upon the Engineers, his mouth fell open. "Oh, me mother..."

The RED Engineer walked up the group, shouldering his smoking shotgun and grinned as he stood beside BLU's giant turret. "You boys alright?"

The mercs looked at one another innocently. They were filthy, bleeding, and beaten but otherwise alive. Soldier was the only one knocked out, but when Medic got around to checking him, he assured the others that he was still very much alive, just unconscious.

"Well, then, looks like we need t'build you fellas a dispenser."

The mercs slowly deflated and began to regroup, collectively checking on one another as the Engineers abandoned the mobile sentry and began working on building a dispenser with the abundant scrap metal now littered amongst them. They began to celebrate their unlikely victory as the realization that they had all miraculously survived kicked in, and once more, they found themselves distracted by a post-battle high.

What they didn't notice, however, was the lone Minor League Scout watching them from down the hill. It remained nearly invisible amongst the bodies of its fellow robots, safely tucked behind a tree; one eye hanging from the socket by a cluster of wires and its left arm missing. It swiftly turned around and began hastily retreating down the mountain with only one mission programmed into its brain: find Gray and tell him of the human victory; tell him of the giant sentry.

And then: severe retaliation.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Miss Pauling could practically feel the bags under her eyes as she slowly walked through the hangar next to Gray's building. It had seemed like eons ago that she stood next to Heavy and Soldier behind a legion of robots, listening in on a plan that they would never get a chance to thwart. She hadn't slept or eaten in well over 24 hours. Still, she ignored her discomfort and aimlessly sauntered through the empty hangar, taking in the sight of the idle tanks.

"What are you doing here?" she heard from behind her suddenly.

Miss Pauling inwardly rolled her eyes at the sound of Gray's voice. His footsteps echoed as he approached her with a mild sense of urgency, as if he was slightly perturbed to stumble upon her.

"I work here now, don't I?" Miss Pauling finally sighed.

"Well, yes, but you don't live here, Miss Pauling. You must be exhausted. Go home and rest."

She furrowed her eyebrows slightly and finally turned to look at him as he stood behind her. She unfolded her hands from behind her back and crossed them over her chest instead, glaring him down. They met eye to eye, Gray being really no taller than she was, and she wondered if she could kill him right then and there if she tried.

"Go home and rest?" she repeated.

Gray could sense the skepticism in her voice and smiled at her gently. "You're not a prisoner here anymore."

She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him once more, glaring tiredly up at the wall which actually held nothing of interest. She just didn't want to look at him anymore.

"Miss Pauling, I know we got off on the wrong foot...," Gray started to say.

"Are you trying to make amends about killing the mercs?" she interrupted. "Because that's low even by your standards."

Gray chuckled. "Heavens, no. Your Administrator informed me that you had been spending a lot of time doing field work. It's no surprise you got a little attached to them. I was attached to my avian mother and siblings for a short while."

"Didn't you eat them?"

"Well, yes. But my point is, if I hadn't sacrificed what I held dear, I never would be where I am today."

If he was trying to boost her morale, he was doing a horrible job. Miss Pauling only turned her head and stared at him in disgust. Did he really think that being raised by eagles and then eating them made him into some sort of invulnerable philanthropist?

"Anyway, look at the time!" Gray said, changing the subject. "Go home, Miss Pauling."

Miss Pauling scowled but kept her cool. She remembered what the Administrator said and knew she had to remain idle for the time being, lest she ruin a scheme she knew no details about. If she assaulted Gray, he might lock her up again or worse, and it was a risk she couldn't take. She had to believe the Admin; that there was a time and place that she would be needed. So Miss Pauling slowly unclenched her fist and stormed away, head held high.

The large garage door rolled open suddenly and she squinted in the flood of morning light, holding up her forearm to shield her view. She was able to make out the silhouette of the Mecha Engineer and ignored it at first, but then did a double take at the robot trailing behind it. It was a Minor League Scout in disrepair; one arm gone and one eye hanging by a wire from its skull. Curiosity got the best of Miss Pauling, and she knew something was up, but she also knew that information would be held back if she was still in the room. So she did a half-run from the garage and the door slammed down behind her.

She wasn't sure why she was tip-toeing; it was just instinctual, but she carefully pressed her ear against the door and strained to listen.

"Ah, my Mecha Engineer," Gray said happily. "Finished deconstructing the teleporters?" He recognized the Minor League Scout as one of the robots he had sent to dispatch the remaining Mann Co. mercenaries and his tone changed. "What is it?"

*Boop beep!* "Master, I have returned from the front lines. The mercenaries have retreated into the mountain where they were ambushed," the Minor League Scout said in a warbled, static voice.

Gray raised his eyebrows. "And? Did you dispose of them? Where is the rest of your group?"

"Negative, Master. The mercenaries live. The robots have been destroyed."

Miss Pauling's eyes widened and she couldn't help the excited grin that grew across her face. They're alive.

"Would you mind telling me how you managed to fail at such a simple task?" Gray continued.

*Beep beep boop!* "The mercenaries were heavily armed; thirteen men and a mobile turret unit."

"Thirteen?"

Gray narrowed his eyes. Something wasn't adding up correctly. There should have only been twelve. Even so, if there had been fifty, the robot should have easily disposed of them without respawn.

Miss Pauling, however, was beaming. The RED Spy must have survived and found the other mercs, successfully warning them that Gray was on their trail. Now they had a chance to escape; to save their own lives. And what was this mobile turret the robot mentioned? Obviously, it had to be the work of the Engineers...

"Idiots," Gray whispered.

*Beep!* "Should we continue onto Plan B and—"

Miss Pauling didn't hear the rest of it. Cold fingers clamped around her arm and she spun around, gasping in shock. It was the Administrator.

"I don't recall espionage being in your job description, Miss Pauling," the Admin whispered angrily.

"Helen, I—"

"Go home."

Her orders were firm and left no room for discussion. Miss Pauling was about to object when she noticed the fiery urgency in the Admin's eyes. Immediately, she closed her mouth and averted her gaze to the side; fighting the urge to desperately argue. With a sigh, she finally admitted defeat and began to walk away. The Administrator watched her for a moment, making sure she wouldn't turn back around if given the chance. But once she was sure that her assistant was a safe distance away, her features softened ever so slightly as she began to trek back to the main building.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Meanwhile, inside the hangar, Gray continued his troubled conversation with the Minor League Scout and Mecha Engineer, unaware that Miss Pauling had heard anything beyond the door.

"I'm expecting a shipment of Australium to be on my desk by this evening. You may implement it into your teleporter and weaponry schematics. Do not waste it."

The Mecha Engineer responded with a, _*beep boop*_ "Yes, Creator!"

Gray walked back towards the hangar's garage door and allowed the Mecha Engineer to open it before him. The two robots followed their master into the morning sunlight. _Now what to do about that prying little bitch, Miss Pauling__?_

*Beep!* "I await your orders, Master!" the Minor League Scout droned.

A thought occurred to Gray just then as he watched Miss Pauling's retreating back in the distance. Slowly, a smile grew on his lips. "Repair yourself but then return to the hangar. There's something else I need to do, but I'm going to need a different kind of robot for this."

RS N—RS N—RS N—RS N—RS N

"We shoulda got here sooner," the RED Engineer grumbled, leaning his shoulder against a tree and frowning. His entire body was tense; his fingers digging into the palm of his gloves.

For the second time, the mercs found themselves gathered together and sharing information. They had the unfortunate task of getting the Engineers up to speed on their dismal situation. Sniper told them of how he had heard the Administrator betray them, how they had nearly died back in Mannworks when respawn fell, and how the RED Scout, Soldier, Demo, Heavy, and Medic had met their demise; Spy barely escaping with his life and Miss Pauling the unwilling employee of their worst enemy.

Now, they were focused on the present. The sun was up but was dampened by a thick, gray overcast. It looked like snow was brewing and the mercs were not looking forward to having to deal with Mother Nature on top of everything else.

They sat around the smoldering wreckage of Sniper's camper, relishing in the heat it still gave off while Scout gathered all the fallen money that had been expelled from the robots at the moment of their destruction. Though it wouldn't do them any good in the mountains, they might need it later if they made it into town. He tried to pretend that he was unharmed, but once he was certain no one was looking, he couldn't help but baby his injured foot and limped profusely as he stooped to pick up wads of cash. In the grand scheme of things, it had been a miracle that the mercs had survived their attack fairly unharmed. Unfortunately, Medic's medigun was in dire need of repairs, so they had to make do with the spare med kits salvaged from the wreckage of the blown up camper. It wasn't much, but it at least downgraded many of their injuries from "requires hospitalization" to "general, painful nuisance" instead. Aside from Pyro's gunshot to the arm, Scout's twisted ankle, and the blast injury Soldier and Demo took from a grenade, the others escaped with nothing more than some cuts and bruises and close calls.

The remaining mercs couldn't be bothered to busy themselves like the Scout. They were exhausted to the point of collapse and sat on fallen trees around a pillar of fire, staring at the ground in a daze. The RED Sniper, especially, was lamenting the loss of his faithful camper until the BLU Spy briefly patted him on the shoulder and silently offered him a cigarette. It was all he could ask for in that moment; that, and a stiff drink.

"So," the Demoman said, breaking the silence. "I assume tha' the reason yeh haven' been fightin' with us til now is because yeh were workin' on this...machine?" He spoke to the Engineers as he nodded his head at the giant sentry parked behind them like a guard dog.

"You assume correctly," the BLU Engineer said. "Been workin' on this for a while, now, actually. Just had to put some finishin' touches on 'er. Sorry it took so long. We couldn't risk Gray or the robots findin' the workshop. The more they were distracted by you, the quicker we could finish this baby."

Scout finished scavenging the fallen cash and had made his way back to the camp, dumping the dampened notes in a pile by the fire to dry. Once again, he was attempting to walk as if unharmed but couldn't hide the relief that washed over him when he finally was able to sit next to the dispenser and take weight off his ankle while he healed.

"What is that thing, anyway?" he asked. "Super sentry or somethin'?"

The BLU Engineer chuckled. "You could say that. I call 'er RoSe."

"Rose?" Heavy repeated.

"That's right. Stands for ROamin' SEntry. Figured with the bots gettin' stronger with every battle, we needed somethin' a little more...proactive."

He stared lovingly at his machine and it beeped affectionately back, as if sentient. It towered over their camp; gun nozzles like cannons. By all accounts, it looked like a bigger version of a normal Level 3 sentry, except instead of a tripod mount, it had four heavy duty wheels the size of boulders and a seat behind the rocket launcher where the Engineer could sit and steer the gun to wherever he pleased.

"I knew you boys had defended Coal Town but when we went to meet ya up at Mannworks this mornin', it had already blown. We saw some crazy tire tracks goin' up into the mountain and figured it might've been Sniper..."

The RED Sniper turned red as the sanctity of his driver's license was, once again, indirectly disputed.

Engineer sighed and continued. "Anyway, there wasn't enough time to put the finishin' touches on 'er, even with RED's help, but she's still got it where it counts." He shared a silent nod of gratitude with his RED counterpart.

"Yeah, well, no offense, but because you two bums took so long, we got shmucked out there!" Scout snapped.

Soldier crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at the BLU Engineer. "You went AWOL, maggot!"

"Yeah, and now respawn is down!"

The Engineer paused and then shook his head. "It shouldn't be 'down'. Not completely."

The mercs simultaneously looked up, eyes wide and ears perked.

"Vhat do you mean?" Medic asked.

"If I recall correctly, I was commissioned to build only one of two respawn cores. The RED Engineer built the other," he nodded his head at his fellow doppelganger.

The entire group found themselves partially rejuvenated and they shifted in their seats, exchanging glances.

"Go on," urged the RED Spy.

"He's right," the RED Engineer said. He had been so quiet up until then, the mercs nearly forgot he was there. "When I was assigned to work on the respawn core, it was only a backup; a dummy system. I don't know why I didn't remember that until just now but it means that in the event of an emergency in which the main respawn core is compromised, the backup core keeps everythin' in a sort of...limbo. "

"What does that mean?" Heavy asked.

"It means that if any of us die right now, we still essentially go to respawn, but we don't come back out until the main core is fixed. It's a fail safe."

The RED Engineer earned blank stares. None of the other mercs had a clue how respawn worked but were incredible intrigued. He shook his head and tried to figure out a way to explain it in smaller, dumbed-down words.

"Er...ok. It's like this, fellas. When we all got hired by Mann Co, they took a sample of our blood. That blood had our DNA in it. When we built respawn, we input the DNA of every team member into a database. Now, think of Teufort as havin' an invisible bubble around it. When we die within that bubble, it breaks our bodies down to the cellular level, searching for a DNA code that matches the one programmed into respawn. When it finally finds it, it takes those cells and begins regenerating them using artificially cloned DNA derived from our own blood. It rebuilds us. Heck, most of us have died so much, I doubt a hair on our heads is the original anymore."

"So...we're fake?" Scout questioned.

"I guess…in a way…we are now," Engineer said, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess I never really thought of it that way. I mean, it's still you. It's your brain, memories, thoughts, and soul if you believe in that sorta thing. It's just basically a cell replicator. We die, respawn dissolves our bodies, and then rebuilds it with patchwork DNA."

"And what's all this science-y stuff gotta do with a secondary respawn core?" the BLU Sniper asked.

"Well, the secondary respawn core was made for situations just like the one we're in. It doesn't have the power to regenerate cells, but it can still break them down, find the DNA, and sorta...shelf it. Meanin', if we can get the main core back up and runnin', the data saved from the secondary core will automatically be reassigned. The main core will take the information the secondary core saved and finish where it left off."

The BLU Spy could sense something in Engineer's tone of voice; something that made him sound hesitant and doubtful.

"But?"

"But…it works on a sort of stopwatch." Engineer sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping in exhaustion. "It can hold in the cellular info of our bodies, but only for a certain amount of time. After that, it begins to lose its integrity; kind of like…decomposes, I guess. That's why we always respawn in a few seconds under normal circumstances. With the RED fellas dyin' hours ago, I don't know if when we finally get respawn up and runnin' again, they'll come out alive. I mean, in the end, we're still human. We can only stay 'dead' for so long..."

The mercs looked at one another again, though their faces had shifted from fascination to concern by then. It was a lot of information to absorb and their minds were already nearly stretched to the breaking point. Five minutes ago, they had considered their fallen RED comrades gone forever, but now there was hope. It was only a small sliver, but it was there.

"What the hell are we waitin' for, then?!" Scout exclaimed.

"We need Australium. A good supply of it, too. Almost everything we have at Mann Co. runs on it," RED Engineer answered.

BLU Engineer smiled and walked over to the dispenser. "Luckily, we have these..." He reached into the dispenser's supply drawer and unearthed a stack of folders; the same stack of folders RED almost set fire to in his workshop.

"What are those?" the RED Sniper asked.

"Schematics. For teleporters, sentries, weapons, and respawn," BLU Engineer answered and then nodded at his RED doppelganger. "Dummy over there was 'bout to burn 'em. It also has a map of every Australium cache in the world, thanks to my late granddad."

"I suggest you get to work on this immediately," BLU Spy said. "If the robots found us up here once, they will find us again. And if we're going to end this war, we're going to need all the help we can get."

The BLU Sniper nodded in agreement. "There's an old radio tower higher up the mountain, at the summit. It ain't much, but it'll give the Engineers some space to work and a bit'a shelter."

"An' a good vantage point," added Demoman.

"That's settled then, ladies!" Soldier barked, swiftly standing up from his log. "Change your socks and move out!"

Tiredly, the mercs hauled themselves to their feet, stretching and groaning as their weary muscles burned, desperate for food and a bit of rest. But they knew time wasn't on their side. They silently gathered their belongings while Scout stuffed the still-damp money in his backpack and reluctantly set off for the radio tower at the summit of the mountain.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

Guilt. That's what Miss Pauling felt when she finally stepped into her apartment. Not relief, not relaxation, not warmth. Guilt. She wasn't sure how long she sat on the edge of her bed, silently contemplating, but it was long enough for the sun's rays to finally break through her blinds and sting her eyes.

Miss Pauling forced herself to walk into the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, seeing her eyes lined with red and just how pale she really looked beneath the day's worth of dirt and grime. She looked sick. Miss Pauling hoped that a nice, hot shower would soothe some of her stress away, but in reality, the thought of enjoying such a monotonous pleasure made her feel even worse. She didn't deserve to feel good while people were dying out there; people she once took responsibility for. She didn't want to eat. She didn't want to rest. She wanted to kill Gray, end the robot war, and find the mercs. Alive.

Reluctantly, Miss Pauling leaned over the bathtub and started the water, but as the steam billowed around her, she could only stand there and stare numbly at her quickly-fading image in the mirror.

_I don't understand. Why didn't Helen just kill Gray when she met him at the coal mine? Respawn wasn't destroyed by then. If the robots had retaliated, wouldn't she just respawn and have us kill off the bots? Without a leader, they would have been easy to pick off. I mean, you can't program intuition, can you? _

Miss Pauling scoured her brain, trying to piece together every little bit of information she had picked up. Not only was it strange that the Administrator thought that they would have the advantage in the heart of the lion's den, but it was even stranger that Gray was so quick to acclimate his worst enemy into his company. If he had approached her and offered a truce under the conditions that he could join Mann Co., she would have laughed in his face. Then shot him. Granted, she was sure the Admin's level of access was most likely limited at best, it was still mind boggling that Gray would even give her a chance. But then again, Miss Pauling suspected that when all was said and done, Gray was probably going to try and kill them both anyway.

She recalled what the Administrator had told her during their private conversation, and she tried to make peace with it. Helen had always trusted Miss Pauling with even the most complex tasks. Why was she being so cryptic now? Was it to protect her? The Administrator never struck Miss Pauling as the 'caring' type. It frustrated her beyond belief. Could you pour acid onto someone's arm, tell them it's not going to burn, and expect them to blindly believe you?

Normal people would have quit by now. If Miss Pauling hadn't been so tenacious, she would have been about six states over by now, shacked up in some wheat field in a house full of guns. Suddenly, she thought of the RED Scout. She never thought in a million years that she would ever admit it, but if he were alive and talking to her right then, he probably would have said something to cheer her up, even if it was childish.

"_That's what I like about you, Miss P. You don't take crap from nobody! A girl after my own heart! Man, if I had a nickel for every time I met a girl as pretty as you, then I'd have five cents!__"_

A hint of a smile broke on Miss Pauling's lips. She was actually going to miss his cheesy pickup lines. Well, not so much the pickup lines as his shameless perseverance. It was a quality she admired, though she never got a chance to tell him.

A sudden noise broke Miss Pauling's reminiscent thoughts. She turned her head towards the sound, straining to listen over the roar of the tap. It sounded like a knock at her door. Instantly, she lunged to turn the water off, just to be sure she wasn't hallucinating in the midst of her exhaustion. But then, a second later, it was unmistakable; a definite knock, followed by a gravelly voice.

"Miss Pauling. Do not make me stand out here all day."

It was the Administrator.

_You have got to be kidding me._ "H-Hang on!" Miss Pauling called out as she hurried out into the living room, doing her best to pat her hair and smooth the wrinkles from her dress before whipping the door open.

The Admin stood on the other side, frowning and cradling her elbow in one arm, cigarette fuming in the air by her chin. She paused, glancing at Miss Pauling up and down. "You look terrible," she finally said.

"Er...thanks," Miss Pauling said sheepishly as she stepped aside. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Sit down. We need to discuss something."

The Administrator stepped inside and gestured towards the dining room table in the background. Miss Pauling inwardly groaned. She was so tired and frustrated; unless the Administrator planned on finally filling her in on what was going on in detail, then she really just wanted to take a shower and go to sleep.

"O...kay," Miss Pauling said slowly and closed the door behind them. She turned her back on the Administrator and began walking towards her kitchen. "I'll make some coffee."

The Administrator watched her disappear around the corner of her living room and began glancing about as if taking a registry of her surroundings. And then, certain she was out of view, her appearance dissolved in a wisp of smoke and a robot Spy stood in her place, deftly twirling its lethal butterfly knife in its metal fingers.

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><p><em>AN: This. fucking. chapter._

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><p>nightelf37: Oh, boy. I already know what happens, having all the chapters, but this still gets to me. See ya on Third!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

nightelf37: Remember: I own absolutely nothing here. Team Fortress 2 is by Valve, and this fic belongs to MickeyDismantle.

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><p><em>AN: Sooooorryyyyyyy for the delay. A few things happened that prevented me from getting any writing done. Mainly, just a creative slump and writer's block. Still not quite out of it, as will be evident by this chapter. It isn't my finest work. I just feel like, despite playing this story over in my head, it became a little too overwhelming and complex. So I'm trying to simplify things so that I won't be so discouraged. Inbred Reindeer also yelled at me a few times, so that helped..._

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><p>From inside Miss Pauling's kitchen came the deafening whir of a coffee grinder pulverizing roasted beans. She made an effort to make as much noise as possible, reaching into cupboards and pulling out spoons and mugs, slapping them down on the counter. It was a way to keep her distracted and sharp. Her shoulders tensed when she saw a long shadow grow behind her own. She waited, keeping her hand firmly on the lid of the grinder. Finally, it died down and the apartment was drenched in silence once again.<p>

"It'll be ready in a few minutes," Miss Pauling said quietly. Slowly, deliberately, she reached into the silverware drawer. "Oh, and another thing..."

In a flash, she spun around, wielding a chef's knife and thrusting it up to the neck of the Spy bot behind her. The robot instantly froze, raising its hands defensively and dropped its butterfly knife. Miss Pauling fumed; her chest heaving as her heart raced with adrenalin.

"I've got a knife, too," she growled.

The Spy bot tried to disappear into a cloud of smoke.

"Oh, no you don't!" Miss Pauling plunged the knife right into the robot's chest. It gave a warbled cry and convulsed upon the floor, spewing sparks; its cloaking circuit fried. "Nice try, but the Administrator has never come to my apartment before. Ever. Now what the hell do you want? Why are you following me?"

The robot Spy remained silent, staring at her with blank blue diodes. Miss Pauling's patience was paper thin and so she ripped the chef's knife from the robot's chest with a grunt, pulling wires out with it. The Spy bot cried out again and the light in its eyes began to flicker.

"Answer me," Miss Pauling demanded. "Did Gray send you?"

"...Affirmative."

"Why?"

"Kill all m—" But then the Spy bot convulsed once more and smoke billowed out from its chest. "Merde," it coughed and then suddenly fell still; blue, glowing eyes now lifeless and grey.

Miss Pauling's shoulders slumped and she sighed sharply. The robot was now dead but her uneasiness only grew. So Gray had sent a bot to do his dirty work after all. She knew the whole situation stunk to high heaven, but to actually see it come to fruition in her own kitchen was a punch in the gut. And what about the Administrator? Did Gray try to assassinate her too? Miss Pauling made a beeline for the phone hanging on her kitchen wall but then stopped in her tracks. She couldn't call Helen. In fact, she couldn't call anyone. If Gray found out that she was still alive, she'd be hunted. Even if the Spy bot had been lying or misunderstood, Miss Pauling couldn't deny that no matter what "deal" Gray and the Administrator had worked out, it would come crashing down on her head in the end. Gray couldn't be trusted, and this sudden attack only proved it.

_I'm sorry, Helen,_ Miss Pauling thought remorsefully. She would have to finally betray her boss, if she was even still alive. Desperate times...

Suddenly, the Spy bot began to emit a rhythmic beeping. Miss Pauling furrowed her brow and leaned in, curiosity getting the best of her until a realization dawned on her. Her eyes went wide and she ran from the kitchen; her small feet carrying her to the front door in leaps and bounds before a violent explosion rocked behind her. She blacked out briefly as her body slammed into the hallway outside and flames erupted from every orifice of her apartment, sending shattered glass flying through the air. When she came to, the hall was already choked with thick, black smoke and the flames rolled up the ceiling and baked her skin. Miss Pauling coughed and scrambled on her hands and knees. She wasn't sure how long she had been knocked out, but she could already hear the shouts of the other tenants as they escaped down the stairwell and the whine of fire trucks arriving outside. Someone picked her up from under her arms and before she could comprehend what was happening, she was being forced down the stairs by a group of escaping citizens.

Daylight and fresh air hit her like a tidal wave. Miss Pauling stumbled outside, nearly tripping over her own feet, and continued to cough violently. She sucked in deep breaths of dry air and ran with the crowd, almost thankful that she blended in amongst them enough to get her bearings without feeling exposed. When she was finally able to glance over her shoulder, she saw the blasted-out hole in the side of the building where her apartment once was; smoke chugging out into the air.

In the commotion of spectators and emergency personnel, Miss Pauling ran. She had a vehicle in the parking lot she saved for emergencies and was able to make her way to it without recognition, throwing herself into the driver's seat and slamming the door on the world outside. For the next few seconds, Miss Pauling closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest, panting and shaking uncontrollably.

As her apartment and belongings burned in the inferno, Miss Pauling finally opened her eyes and pulled down the sun visor. The keys fell into her awaiting hands and after fumbling with them for a second, she managed to start the old Ford up and drove like a bat out of hell towards the only place she knew she could go; the only place she could figure things out with people she trusted. As she stared at the mountains ahead of her where she knew the mercs were holed up, she could only hope and pray that they were still alive when she got there.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The mercs let out a collective groan of relief when they finally reached the summit of the mountain. The radio tower was like a lighthouse in a stormy sea, leading them to shelter and the promise of rest, but they knew they couldn't let their guard down for too long.

The summit was broader than they had expected. The trees were not as dense and the snow gave way to compacted ice along sharp rocks. The small building next to the radio tower was painfully exposed and beyond that, the mountain gave way to a steep crater filled with a lake that had frozen during the last snowfall. A small, derelict bridge connected one end of the crater to the other, like a pathway across a dormant volcano. What it was used for, the mercs didn't know. Perhaps it's a mining route? Whatever it was, it was abandoned now.

RED Spy shot the padlock off of the radio tower building and the mercs piled in. It was a fairly barren room, no bigger than an average suburban garage, and had once obviously housed various panels of switchboards and computers. The only evidence of their existence now though was their outline along the grimy, concrete walls. A tinted window beside the door provided their only light, as the light switch the BLU Engineer tried to flip on was dead.

"Well," he sighed dejectedly, "it ain't Aperture, but it'll hafta do."

To the mercs, the building might as well have been the Taj Mahal.

"I call dibs on this corner," Scout groaned and dragged himself to a small sliver of the room. He immediately slumped to the ground and using his backpack as a pillow, instantly fell asleep.

"That ain't a half bad idea," the RED Engineer said. "Ya'll get some rest."

He didn't have to tell the others twice. The mercs immediately deflated, scattered upon the floor. Though the building offered shelter from the cold, the wind was fierce at the summit and left them to rest fitfully. Immediately, the Engineers got to work and poured over the respawn schematics before heading for the door.

"Vhere are you going?" the Medic asked, looking up groggily.

"We're gonna go hit up a nearby cache of Australium. We'll need as much as we can get to get started on buildin' this thing," the RED Engineer said, nodding at the schematics. "RoSe will stay here and keep guard while you fellas get some sl—"

"No. Take the sentry. You're the only ones who can fix respawn and we can't risk anything happening to you along the way," said the BLU Spy.

The RED Pyro suddenly stood up and muffled something excitedly.

"Nah, you stay here, Pyro," RED Engineer answered. "We don't gotta worry about Spies where we're goin'."

But then Pyro clasped his hands together as if begging and whined a drawn-out plea that could only pass as, "Pleeeeease?"

RED Engineer sighed. "Alright, if ya really wanna. We could use an extra pair'a eyes."

Pyro was like a dog whom was going for a walk with his masters. He clapped his hands excitedly and grabbed his Axtinguisher which was propped up against a nearby wall with the other weapons. Dutifully, he cantered up to the Engineers and gave a firm salute.

"Alright, then, see you fellas later. Keep an eye out," BLU Engineer said to the rest of the mercs, but he was granted only mild snores in response.

As soon as the door shut behind the trio, the RED Spy flipped open his disguise kit but was devastated to find that he had no more cigarettes.

"Merde," he whispered to himself just as a cigarette produced itself from his right. The BLU Spy held open his own kit and his RED counterpart graciously accepted the proffered nicotine. "Many thanks."

"So…what happens now?" the BLU Heavy sighed. He glanced around at his comrades with a look of forlorn curiosity, as if he already knew the answer but needed some sort of reassuring. When they were reunited with the Engineers earlier, it was a boost of morale. To know that more members of their team weren't dead, it brought back a bit of their fighting spirit. Things perhaps weren't as bad as they thought. But now that the Engineers were gone again, even if it was just on an errand, it made them feel uneasy.

"Ve rest...vhile we can," Medic answered. "I'll take first vatch."

They didn't have to be told twice. Almost as soon as Medic said 'rest', the mercs were closing their eyes and resting their heads back against the concrete wall. Medic, too, yawned as he stood up but he felt that he could shake off the tug of sleep for a while longer. Quietly, he stepped outside into the frigid mountain air.

The Medic made a makeshift stool out of some milk crates he found on the side of the shack and sat stationed just to the left of the door. He tried to ignore the chill in the air but his body betrayed him with a series of shivers. The air was thin up in the mountain and the elevation made the stinging wind whip across the nearby crater at unmerciful speeds. If the robots found their way to them, he wasn't sure that the mercs could effectively fight them off successfully under such conditions.

"Mein Gott, es ist kalt," he whispered to himself, wrapping his hands around his biceps and rubbing them to warm his skin.

Suddenly, the door to the shack opened up and out stepped Heavy.

"Heavy, vhat are you doing? Go back inside and get some rest," Medic scolded.

"Not tired," Heavy lied, pulling up his own set of milk crates.

He sat down next to Medic, effectively blocking some of the wind. Medic couldn't deny that the sudden relief from the cold was welcome, but then Heavy unearthed two objects from his pocket, handing one to the Medic.

"I salvage from Sniper's camper earlier," Heavy whispered impishly.

The two mercs shared a warm smile as they pulled the Brown Bomber hats over their heads. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

"Danke, Heavy."

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The Administrator cautiously parted the blinds of her darkened bedroom with her finger and thumb, peering out into the deceptively bright, sunny day for any signs that she had been followed. It wasn't that she had any particular reason to believe she would be, but she didn't become the Administrator of Mann Co. by being languid. It was something in her gut.

Suddenly, her phone rang and she turned away from the window, frowning and narrowing her eyes as she nursed her cigarette. No one called her home phone. No one except him. Helen practically ripped the receiver from the wall, silencing the piercing ring and sharply exhaled the smoke from her lungs.

"I told you to never call this number," she hissed into the mouthpiece. She listened as the voice on the other end attempted to soothe her nerves. "Flattery will get you nowhere. You're compromising everything by calling me here. This line isn't secure. What do—" She was interrupted suddenly and as she listened, her face relaxed from annoyed anger into frustrated concern. Then, silence. The Administrator didn't bother responding to the person on the other end of the line but instead stomped over to her television and clicked it on, turning to the channel she was instructed to do so.

"A five alarm blaze continues to burn out of control at the Mesa Village Townhomes just east of Farmington. Officials on the scene don't yet know the cause of the fire, but witnesses from inside the building say they were awoken by a loud explosion earlier this morning. No injuries have been confirmed. However, law enforcement officials have been unable to locate or contact the occupant of the apartment in which the blast is said to have taken place..."

The fire behind the reporter raged on, belching out plumes of swirling, black smoke as firefighters and emergency personnel busied themselves in the background. Jets of water were aimed at the broken windows in an attempt to drown the flames but to no avail. To any normal viewer, it would just look like an unfortunate situation to shake your head at before turning off the television and going about your business. But the Administrator knew better; she recognized the building.

"I will call you later. I have to go retrieve my assistant." The Administrator slammed the receiver back up onto the wall.

RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN—RSAN

The adrenaline should have kept her alert, but Miss Pauling found her vision blurring from the tug of sleep nonetheless. Her tiny hands white-knuckled the steering wheel of her white Ford Econoline as she steered it farther and farther into the mountains. Paved roads and the daily hustle and bustle of Teufort gave way to gravel and wide-open spaces. The sun blared down upon the earth and despite the chill, cast mirages in the distance that gave the illusion of a hot midsummer's day. Sand gave way to shrubs and shrubs gave way to snow-capped trees. It wasn't until the news chopper disappeared from her rearview mirror and the smoke from her apartment fire became nothing more than a black speck behind her that she relaxed a little bit.

She was alive, no one knew the wiser, and she would have to keep it that way. Though she had done nothing wrong, she felt as if she were a fugitive on the lam from the police. So she had to remind herself to remain inconspicuous and drive like a normal human being and not some crazed bank robber.

There were several routes up into the mountains and Miss Pauling took the one her gut told her to. She drove aimlessly for what felt like hours, though only 40 minutes or so had passed since her departure.

Never in her life had she felt so awful. She hadn't eaten or slept in two days and her body and mind were certainly feeling it. Her cat-eye glasses hung crookedly from her nose and her hair was a mess of stringy fly-aways protruding from her bun. Her eyelids were like stinging, lead hoods over her bloodshot eyes and soon, the passing of trees in her peripheral vision began to have a hypnotizing effect. She felt her head lull a little!

"Ugh," she whispered and rolled down her window. The cold, dry mountain air hit her face like a splash of water. She shivered but ignored the discomfort, reaching for the radio dial and blasting whatever station happened to be on. That far away from any town and so high up into the mountains, the stations were nothing more than faint, static relics of awful country music and news.

She was beginning to become impatient. She wondered how long she would have to drive before she either found what she was looking for or fell asleep at the wheel and careened off a cliff. Both had equally grim outcomes. Desperately, Miss Pauling searched for any radio station that would keep her awake.

"Ugh, forget—" she growled in frustration, just as something ran out into the road. "SHIT!"

Despite her weariness, she slammed on the brakes with remarkable swiftness, but it was too late. The road was slick with ice and the Ford Econoline fishtailed for several hundred feet. Miss Pauling braced for impact. There was a loud crunch and a shower of sparks and metal parts rained down on the hood of her van as it finally came to a complete stop.

For the next several seconds, Miss Pauling remained clutching the steering wheel and shaking in horror. She wasn't sure what she had hit but she knew it had to be another vehicle; a small motorcycle maybe. All she could do was pray that no one was on it.

"Please don't be dead. I don't have time for this," she whispered and reluctantly opened the driver's side door to hop out onto the road.

Cautiously, she rounded the front of the van, grimacing as she expected to see the mangled remains of some poor motor bike and its occupant, but what she saw was actually far, far worse. Miss Pauling gasped and her eyes went wide, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

It was a robot Scout, twitching in the middle of the road; smoke pouring from its mouth and its blue LED eyes grey and dead. Miss Pauling stared at it in shock for a second before lifting her gaze to the horizon, scanning the trees. If there was one robot, there was bound to be many more in its wake and Miss Pauling didn't want to be seen in the middle of the road when they arrived. She was about to hop back into the van and speed away when she noticed something odd about the crumpled remains of the robot and did a double take. There was something gold shining beneath its torso...

Miss Pauling stooped down to push the dead robot over and furrowed her brow when she saw what it was. Australium. And a good chunk of it, too.

"What the…?" she muttered under her breath.

What use would a robot have for Australium? It was then that she lifted her gaze to study the road. She saw the thin trail of slush that her tires had left and scanned the soft film of snow for the robot's footprints. They were easily identifiable from the gravelly shoulder, disappearing into the trees to her right. The robot must have just run right out into the road, on its way from an important errand; an errand that oddly involved a rare, expensive, precious metal.

A normal, wary person would listen to their instincts to get back in the van, turn around, and go another route. But Miss Pauling wasn't a normal, wary person. She had to find out what was going on; anything to get the upper hand. At that point, the only thing that could help her and the mercs win the war against Gray was to know exactly what his next move was. So Miss Pauling hugged her arms, ignored the biting cold, and followed the robot's footprints back into the trees.

The wind was beginning to pick up as she treaded over the floor of pine needles and twigs, doing her best to keep her bearings and remain as silent as possible. Her black flats did well to distribute her weight enough to keep her footfalls light, but she still instinctively hid behind the trees as much as she could. It felt like she had been walking for days, though every time she turned her head, she could see her van still beyond the pines.

There was a steep embankment ahead and Miss Pauling remained hunched over as she approached it. She could hear the sounds of metal clanking together not too far in the distance. Carefully, she crawled up the hill, using her hands for extra traction and then stopped when she reached the top, ducking her head down instinctively.

Down at the bottom of the gulley was a group of robot Soldiers, digging away at a large pit in the middle of a dried-up river bed, pulling out small caches of Australium. Standing by were several Scout bots, ready to receive the gold metal in their massive hands. The robots worked in tandem, displaying a sense of teamwork that Miss Pauling had never observed from any of Gray's machines before.

Unfortunately, curiosity got the best of her. She needed to find out what they were using the Australium for, so as quietly as she could, she snuck back down the hill towards her van again, disappearing into the trees on the opposite side of the road.

_The Scout bot was heading this way, I think._

It wasn't long before she came across a set of several footprints in the snow; clunky robot footprints. Carefully, Miss Pauling followed them, staying low to avoid detection. She had a small pistol tucked away in a garter belt beneath her dress, but she knew it would do little to protect her should she be spotted by a horde.

The trees became thicker and the terrain underfoot was harder and harder for Miss Pauling to navigate safely and quietly through, but she needn't deal with it much longer. Soon, she could hear the sounds of metal clanking and the whir of machinery. She squinted and tried to peer through the tangle of branches ahead of her; fearing that if she should go any further, she would risk being spotted. The noise was so close. She moved a little to her right and leaned on a fallen tree and finally was able to see through a small clearing.

"What the…?" she whispered to herself.

There was a group of Scout bots and the Mecha Engineer standing around what looked like the beginnings of a large teleporter and sentry gun. Miss Pauling narrowed her eyes and frowned. So this is what Gray was talking about in the garage earlier that morning…

Suddenly, the log she was standing on shifted ever so slightly. In a split second, the robots looked up and Miss Pauling quickly found herself being manhandled away, a firm hand clamping over her mouth. She gasped and struggled but then realized that the hand was warm. Human.

"Don't move," came a whisper in her ear.

Miss Pauling immediately froze, recognizing that southern drawl anywhere. When she calmed down, the hand was removed from her mouth.

"Engineer?!" she whispered.

He only put a finger to his lips to shush her. The robots, wary as to what had caused the log to shift, approached with their weapons raised. Engineer and Miss Pauling remained hunched on the forest floor; their backs pressed against a tree trunk. Engineer kept his pistol at the ready, trying to keep his breathing even and his wits about him. If they were discovered right then and there, it would be game over. The robots would kill them without a second thought, and there was no way the two of them could hold off so many.

The ground crackled underneath the robots' feet as they treaded across dried leaves, twigs, and snow. Miss Pauling did her best not to pant, lest the fog from her breath give away her position. A Scout bot got so close, she could see its metal skin shining out of her peripheral vision. She remained absolutely still, however, and soon enough, the robots seemed to have quelled their curiosity and stomped back towards where the Mecha Engineer remained working on the teleporter.

Miss Pauling looked at Engineer and they shared a sort of telepathic message.

_Let's get out of here,_ her face urged.

Engineer only held up a finger, signaling her to wait a moment. Once he was sure the robots were thoroughly preoccupied, he nodded and the two of them slipped back through the trees; hunched over as low as their backs could bear. Once they reached the roadway again, Engineer made a loud "pssst" sound and the RED Pyro and BLU Engineer came out of hiding from within the forest. Behind them, RoSe wheeled itself across the road.

"Guys!" Miss Pauling exclaimed. "What are you doing here?! And what the hell is that!? Is that a sentry?!"

"Yes, it is," RED Engineer answered calmly. "And I think it would be more appropriate for us to ask you what you're doin' here. Spy said Gray was keepin' ya hostage or somethin'."

Miss Pauling's eyes widened slightly. "So, Spy's alive?! He made it?!"

"Barely. So what happened? What are ya doin' out here on your own? It ain't safe."

"No kidding," Miss Pauling replied sarcastically. "I was…escaping. There was an explosion at my apartment."

Pyro muttered something urgently.

"No, no, I'm fine, Pyro," Miss Pauling quickly reassured him. "It was Gray. He sent a Spy bot to kill me. I got away and was heading up the mountain because I overheard that that's where you guys would be. I hit a robot and then did a bit of reconnaissance. That's when you found me. What about you? Why aren't the others with you?"

"They stayed up the mountain. No sense in us all stickin' our necks out," BLU Engineer replied. He gestured towards himself, RED Engineer, and Pyro. "The three of us were on our way to scope out an Australium cache but it looks like Gray's bots beat us to it. We saw this van and the robot carcass in the road and did a bit of recon ourselves. Lucky we stumbled upon you, really…"

Miss Pauling couldn't help but blush a little in embarrassment. She wasn't used to having people save her. "Thanks. But why are you looking for Australium?"

"Repairin' respawn."

Miss Pauling's eyes widened and she pushed her crooked glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "What? That's possible!?"

"Maybe. Worth a try. Got nothin' else to lose at this point, 'cept more lives. But look, we'll have to fill you in later. We're sittin' ducks out here."

BLU Engineer knelt down next to the mangled robot heap in front of Miss Pauling's van. "We'll hafta get rid of this. If the other bots come through here and see this, they'll know we're nearby. Pyro, gimme a hand."

Pyro nodded and the two of them began to load the various pieces of scrap metal into the back of Miss Pauling's van.

"How far up are the rest of the guys?" Miss Pauling asked the RED Engineer.

"Few miles."

"Are you going to head back up?"

"Soon. Got a few other caches to check. You gonna be alright by yourself?"

Miss Pauling glared at him wryly. Engineer chuckled; he should have known better. Of course she would be alright. If any of them were to survive this ordeal, it would be Miss Pauling.

"Well, then, Miss Pauling…the guys are hidin' out at an old radio tower. Keep goin' and you'll start seein' it through the trees." He gestured towards himself, the BLU Engineer, and the RED Pyro. "The three'a us are gonna see if we can do somethin' about these damn robots stealin' our Australium and meet ya back up there later."

"Ok, thanks. …Be careful," Miss Pauling said, opening the driver's side door of her van and pulling herself into the seat. She saw BLU Engineer give a simple wave from her left mirror as she put the vehicle in "drive" and gunned the engine, fishtailing as she sped off.

The three mercs watched as Miss Pauling's van became smaller and smaller in the distance before RED Engineer sighed and dusted his hands off.

"Well…let's go kill some robots and take back what's rightfully ours."

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><p>nightelf37: And I'll keep on going until I reach the last of it. After that… well, I'll find out when I get there. And when I asked MickeyDismantle where Saxton Hale was, I was told that in-story, he was still wrestling that yeti. Remember, this was before "Ring of Fired" was published. Also, I had to check what a Ford Econoline was to verify if it was a van. Sorry, I don't have much knowledge on car makes. See ya on Thrid!<p> 


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